It's a Dangerous Game
by Loki's-Phantom-x
Summary: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Now multi-chaptered. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde. R&R, x. *ON TEMPORARY HIATUS, MANY APOLOGIES*
1. A Sin with No Name

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to '_Dangerous Game_' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

There was many a times Erik had stood there; behind the glass of Christine Daae's mirror, just watching; observing. He had seen her entertain the fop, Raoul de Chagny; he had seen her undress many a time, leaving him hot and bothered under the collar; he had seen her with Meg Giry, just talking and giggling like young woman do; he had seen her in intimate state although he had tried to look away but he always found his eyes were glue to her fingers, which would travel down between her legs to bring herself pleasure. He knew he was unworthy of watching such an angel give in to such an act but he found that sometimes he couldn't stop himself.

Tonight he found himself behind the glass once again, one hand pressed against the cold surface as his eyes glanced around for her. She was seated at her vanity, putting a little dab of make-up upon her porcelain cheeks and upon her eyelids before unpinning her hair, which cascaded down over her shoulders. She glanced at herself once more in the vanity mirror before standing and walking towards the mirror slowly. She seemed to pause for a moment, her eyes flicking up to the surface of the mirror, as if, somehow, she knew someone was there, as if she knew that _he_ was watching her. A small smile played on her lips and she turned her back to the mirror, slowly reaching behind her to undo the ties of her dress. Erik's eyes widened. If she knew he was there, was she doing this _for_ him? She usually began to undress and move behind her divider, but tonight she had no intention of moving anywhere that wasn't in his vision. Her hands grasped at the ties and pulled; Erik watching as they came away from the dress and Christine's shoulder blades and top half of her back were on show before the corset underneath the material came into view. She turned towards the mirror, taking two small steps closer and pushed her dress from her shoulders, the creamy white skin making his body come alive as she revealed a little more, then more, teasing him. He knew that she knew he was there. The little vixen.

Christine looked up into the mirror, straight ahead, not knowing that she was looking straight into Erik's lust filled eyes as she pushed the dress down over the curve of her breasts, baring her cleavage before her corset came into view. _Damn that corset_, he found himself saying. His body was waking to her teasing, his hands aching to touch her. She gave her dress one last push over her waist and it puddle at her feet, leaving her stocking-clad legs in view. She lifted her hands to her face, cupping her cheeks in her palms before running her hands down her creamy throat, swallowing hard as she did so, a small blush staining her cheeks. Her hands carried on down her body, cupping her breasts for a moment before they moved down towards her secret area. Erik closed his eyes for a moment before he eased them open again to see that Christine had stepped up closer to the mirror, pressing her hand against the glass as she ran her index finger over her lips. From his side, Erik placed his hand over hers, noting the way she looked down at her hand, as if she had felt his movement. She smiled her beautiful smile and she brought her finger up in a 'come hither' motion before she moved over to the chaise lounge, sitting down with her back to him.

God, she _definitely_ knew he was there. And his body was awake with desire. What was he to do now?

Before he knew it, he was sliding the mirror open with one hand, trying to be as silent as possible. He could hear her breathing, heavy within the quiet room. He stepped into the room, the floorboard creaking below his shoe. He saw her smile from where he stood but she didn't turn to look at him. He slid the mirror closed behind him before slowly approaching her, confident and aroused. He knelt behind her, her breathing becoming deeper as she felt his presence and heard the rustle of his cloak as he knelt.

"Angel ..." she whispered as he brought his gloved hand around, wrapping it around her delicate throat and tilting her head back. He noted her eyelashes fluttering as her eyes closed, her little hand coming up to run along his forearm. Who knew that the touch of an angel could light the fires of hell deep within his being?

"You little temptress," he purred in her ear, making an _almost_ inaudible moan escape from her throat. He knew how to use his voice to awaken the deepest desires within her, to turn the shy kitten into the confident lioness, strong and powerful. "You know how I cannot resist you yet you tease me with your body, your boldness. You will be my undoing, Christine Daae." Suddenly the hand was gone from around her throat and her eyes opened, only to see him walk towards the door, the unmistakable click of him locking the door making her wet and wanting him. She had yet to look him in the eye properly. Her gaze settled on his gloved hand that was resting against the wooden door, then his back, how broad and muscular he was, even with the cloak on.

"Come to me, Angel of Music ..." she whispered, sitting up on the chaise lounge as he suddenly turned his head to look at her, his blue-green eyes almost setting her soul alight. The white mask on his face made his authority known as he quickly shed his cloak, dropping it to the floor. He stood there, looking every inch the gentleman she thought him to be. She hadn't meant to anger him the last time; she had made a stupid decision to take off his mask just to satisfy her curiosity. But she had almost lost her Angel because of it. But now here he was; beautiful, ravishing, stunning, attractive. _Handsome_.

"I am no Angel, Christine. Tonight you are Christine and I am only Erik ..." he said, watching her. She took a gulp, her nervousness setting in. But she decided to make the first move. Their eyes were locked as Christine lifted one foot from the floor onto the chaise lounge and spread her other thigh, parting her legs for him, _only_ him. She heard the hitch in his breath as he watched her, his eyes roaming down to her parted thighs.

"Erik ..." she whispered, his name on her lips sounding so erotic. He walked slowly forward before sitting down beside her. He looked down to her bare thigh at the top of her stockings and slowly reached out a hand only to have Christine grab it. She gripped the end of the index finger and pulled the glove off, revealing his large masculine hands. "I want no barriers, Erik. No leather. I want skin. _Your_ skin on mine." Erik took a deep breath. This ... this _angel _wanted him. Him only. "Touch me." Erik's eyes met hers once more as she put his hand down, right onto the creamy white skin of her thigh. Erik's eyes fluttered closed, having only dreamed of this moment. He kept his hand still for a moment before his fingers explored gently, moving up and down. But as quickly as he put his hand there, he removed it.

"What's wrong?" Christine asked.

"Stand up," Erik said, and she would have been mad to deny that voice anything. She did as he asked and he sat back against the chaise lounge before pulling her down onto his lap. His fingers ran down her throat and along her collarbone before moving up to her shoulder, touching his lips to the back of her neck.

"Sing for me, Christine ..." he asked, his eyes fixed on the snowy white skin of her breasts, peeking out over the top of her corset.

"Erik?"

"Sing for me!" She nodded and cleared her throat as his fingers continued their exploration of her upper body.

'_I feel your fingers, brushing my shoulder;  
>Your tempting touch as it tingles my spine;<br>Watching your eyes as they invade my soul,  
>Forbidden pleasures I'm afraid to make mine.'<em>

Erik lifted her up, standing up himself and he laid her down on her back, her legs instinctively parting as he watched her. He stripped himself of his suit jacket and cravat, throwing them to the ground as Christine's hands moved to unbutton his waistcoat. He laid his body over her own, the feel of him hard within the confines of his pants made her moan. He leaned down and stole the first kiss of the evening, his lips fitting against hers just nicely; as if they had been made to fit all along. The waistcoat came undone and Christine hastily pushed it off his shoulders. Erik quickly took hold of her hands.

"Slow down; we have all night," he whispered. "Now, sing." And he lowered his lips to her throat as he shrugged his waistcoat the rest of the way off. Christine didn't know how she could sing when he was doing things to her with his sinful tongue. But she opened her mouth and let the words she felt at that moment flow out.

'_At the touch of your hand; at the sound of your voice,  
>At the moment your eyes meet mine;<br>I am out of my mind; I am out of control;  
>Full of feelings I can't define.'<em>

"Hmm, the things you do to me with your voice alone, Christine," Erik purred against her neck, his large hands cupping her breasts through her corset, making her arch her back seductively against him. His hands moved to untie the corset, sliding each lace out painfully slowly as he watched her. Her face was a deep shade of pink. He knew she was nervous, hell, he was nervous, but her blush made him smile as he pulled her corset from her body, revealing her bare breasts and stomach to him. She moved to cover herself with her arms under his gaze but her grabbed her arms and pinned them down to her sides. "No ... don't do that. You are beautiful ... Christine." More blushing followed deep breathing and Erik took an erect nipple between his teeth, pulling gently, making her call out his name loudly. He then circled it with his tongue, making it feel better after the assault of his teeth.

"**It's a sin with no name; like a tiger to tame,  
>and my senses proclaim it's a dangerous game.'<strong>

Christine gasped out loud as his smooth voice, the voice she fell in love with the day they first met, sang gently, in a soft velvety tone, vibrating against her breast. Her hands moved to his shirt, pulling it hard, trying to get it off his body. She wanted to touch his chest, to feel those muscles beneath her hands. What had he been hiding from her all this time? He rose up to his knees, pulling off his shirt and leaving his chest bare to her touch. She sat up and knelt up in front of him, pressing her pert breasts into his chest. He groaned deep in his throat, grabbing her upper arms in his hands. She kissed his collarbone before working her way down, taking one of his male nipples in her mouth and sucking hard, making Erik pull her hard against him and grind their hips together.

"Sing, Erik. For me, please?"

'**A darker dream that has no ending,  
>Something unreal that you want to be true.'<strong>

Christine pulled back from his chest for a moment and moved her lips to hover over his as she sang back to him.

'_A strange romance out of a mystery tale.'_

'**A frightened princess doesn't know what to do,  
>Does she just run away? Does she risk it and stay?<br>Either way there's no way to win.'**

Erik captured her perfect mouth in a kiss as she pushed him onto his back on the chaise, throwing a leg over his hip and straddling his perfect form. He pushed his hips up against hers, enticing a moan she had been holding back from within her. Her nails dug into his chest, leaving angry red lines that he was sure he'd feel later. Right now, all that mattered was the temptress astride him and nothing else. The world could stop spinning for all he cared; as long as he had Christine in his arms. He felt her suddenly move, rocking where she sat, grinding herself against him. Erik reached behind him, grabbing the edge of the chaise, his eyes almost rolling back in his head as her heavenly voice engulfed him.

'_All I know is I'm lost; and I'm counting the cost,  
>My emotions are in a spin,<br>And though no one's to blame ...'_

'**It's a crime and a shame ...'**

'_But it's true all the same ...'_

'**It's a dangerous game."**

He could feel himself on the brink of the inevitable but he didn't want it to end now. He pushed Christine back from him, bringing a sly grin to her face.

"You vixen; you know _exactly_ what you do to me," he said as she stood from the chaise and moved to the mirror in nothing but her stockings. He watched her firm rear as she walked away from him. He kicked off his shoes and also stood. Christine pressed her hot back against the cool mirror, letting out a shiver, her curls framing her face wildly as she watched him with fire in her eyes. She caught sight of the rather large bulge in his pants, smiling when she realised just how much he wanted her.

"Sing with me, my love," she said and Erik's heart beat erratically in his chest. _My love_? Was she serious?

'_**No one speaks, not one word,  
>All the words are in our eyes,<br>Silence speaks loud and clear,  
>All the words we want to hear,<strong>_

Erik immediately knelt at her feet and began rolling her stockings down her legs until she was completely bare before him. She couldn't tear her eyes from his as he began kissing her abdomen, leaving wet streaks from his tongue over the milky skin before he moved his mouth downwards. He could hear her breathing deeply as he neared his destination, taking a quick swipe at her opening, noting how her legs almost gave way beneath her. One hand pressed her against the glass of the mirror whilst the other hitched one leg over his shoulder to get a better angle before he began his slow torture of her body. He took a few teasing licks at her before sucking the little erect bud into his mouth, listening to the way she moaned and called his name. The way his eyes never left hers made her even more aroused. Suddenly, he sucked hard, making her sensitive to his tongue and she squeezed her eyes closed and her head fell back against the mirror as her nails dug into the skin of his shoulder.

"Oh ... oooh my ... _Erik_ ..." she moaned, practically bucking her hips against his mouth to get more. She let out a sudden wail when she felt a long finger press at her entrance. She tightened for a moment, unused to the feeling.

"Relax, angel ..." Erik cooed, running a hand over her soft abdomen and her body began to give in. His finger was slowly but surely allowed entrance, causing Christine to gasp loudly and let out a strangled sob.

"E-Erik ... too much ..." she moaned as his mouth got to work once more, his finger stroking her velvet walls, readying her for something much larger. He was surprised the volume of her moaning hadn't attracted some attention. She wasn't a quiet thing; that was for sure. He suddenly added a second finger and within seconds she screamed out his name and her orgasm washed over her body, Erik suddenly catching her as she seemed to lose balance and sag down against him. They stared at each other for a moment while Christine got her breath back before she pressed a delicate kiss to his lips.__

__**'**_**At the touch of your hand; at the sound of your voice,  
>At the moment your eyes meet mine;<br>I am out of my mind; I am out of control;  
>Full of feelings I can't define.'<strong>_

Erik smiled at how well their voices went together before he suddenly felt Christine's small hands undoing the button on his pants. She slid her hand inside, suddenly cupping him delicately and squeezing, almost becoming his undoing. He stood quickly, allowing Christine to pull down his pants revealing what she had been waiting on. Suddenly he grabbed her, pulling her up to his level and sliding his hands around her rear, lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him in close as he pressed her against the cold glass surface behind her.

"Please Erik ... I need you ... I love you ..." she moaned and that was when Erik froze. _She_ loved _him_?

"You love me?" he asked and she nodded vigorously.

"I always have ..." she said. "I _need_ you." Suddenly she called out in painful pleasure as he began to fill her, pushing inside her wet heat, feeling her welcome him inside. He let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. Suddenly her fingers were at the edges of his mask, prying it from his face.

"No ... Christine ...please," he muttered but he heard the mask clatter to the floor and there was a sudden press of lips to his deformed cheek.

"I love _all_ of you ..." she muttered, kissing every bit of the deformity she could reach. "Please ... move." That's when he realised his legs felt like lead from standing still. He captured her lips in his and he pushed into her before pulling out and back in again, repeating and repeating, listening to the woman he loved pant and moan because of _him_. Her sweating back against the mirror made a horrid noise but he moved faster, feeling her push down to meet his thrusts. Suddenly she was pulled away from the mirror and laid down on the chaise lounge with Erik over the top of her. He guided her feet to his shoulders, the new angle doing wonders. He gripped the arm of the chaise behind her head and began driving into her hard and fast, like a man possessed. Christine was almost screaming, her vocal chords working overtime.

"Erik ... please, I can't ..."

"Let go ..." he whispered and that was her undoing. She _did_ scream, loud. It took Erik a few more thrusts as she constricted around him and he was emptying himself inside of her, thrusting through his orgasm before he collapsed onto the angel beneath him. The air in the room was thick with sweat and sex, but Christine found she didn't want it any other way. Her arms came up and around her angel, kissing his forehead, right in the centre where deformity met perfection.

"**It's a sin with no name; like a tiger to tame, **

_And though no one's to blame ...'_

'**It's a crime and a shame ...'**

Christine smiled as Erik shifted to look up at her, the smile on his face rare but beautiful. He hoisted himself up from her, pulling out of her. She felt the warmth leave her body when he did, which was slightly disappointing. But he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.

"Thank you," he whispered before he stood and began dressing. Christine watched him move about her dressing room, gathering his clothes.

"Must you go?" she asked, sighing as she sat up.

"No ... but I was thinking we could go down to my home and you could scream there where no one would hear you," he suggested, making Christine giggle. He gathered up his cloak, leaving his jacket and cravat on the floor. He could get them later. He wrapped Christine's body with the cloak before he scooped her into his arms. "Come my love, I have much more exploring to do." He kicked the sweat smeared mirror open and they moved into the tunnel.

"Sing once more ..." they both said in unison. So they did.

'_**And the angels proclaim ...'  
>'It's a dangerous game."<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Well, that was rather smut filled<strong>**but I hope people like it. Complete PWP. haha. Feedback would be fantastic. :)**_**  
><strong>_


	2. I Need to Tell You Now

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**Chapter 2**

Consciousness came to Christine slowly, her eyes adjusting to the candlelight. It took her a few moments to realise that she was no longer in her dressing room, but in another bed completely. The sudden shuffle against her back and the arm draping over her waist made it all real, realising that what had happened the night before had not been a dream after all. She was with him in his home; in his bed; in his _arms_, finally. She turned her head on the pillow, her eyes landing on his unmasked face, peaceful with sleep. She turned over to face him, sliding closer to his body. She pressed a few kisses to his deformed cheek, watching him as his eyelids suddenly flickered. She laid her head down next to his as his beautiful eyes suddenly opened, taking a few moments to adjust before settling on her own. She felt her insides tighten with love when a smile slid onto his features.

"You're here. It wasn't a dream," he said, seemingly sighing with relief. Christine nodded.

"Good morning," she whispered. "At least, I think it is morning." Erik chuckled.

"One can never tell down here, but yes, I'd say you are right," he said. He went to run a hand over his face, suddenly realising his mask was missing. He made a sudden movement to look for it, but Christine touched his arm.

"Please, don't. I'm _not_ afraid of your face," she said, running her fingers up to his bare shoulder. "I love your face as much as I love you." He looked stunned.

"How? I am a monster," he said. Christine shook her head.

"You are nothing of the sort. You are Erik. My angel," she said, leaning in, taking his malformed lips into a passionate kiss. The kiss shouldn't have surprised Erik, not with what had happened the night before, but he felt like he was being kissed for the first time all over again, his eyes slowly slipping closed as he let himself get lost in her. It felt all too soon when she pulled away. They were silent for a few moments before Erik spoke.

"What about your Vicomte?" he said, softly, knowing she'd slip through his fingers somehow. Christine pressed a hand to his disfigured cheek, using her thumb to wipe away a tear forming.

"I will not marry him," she said, making Erik look up into her eyes. That was when he made his decision. He looked down at his hand, at the ring on his smallest finger. He took a deep breath and pulled it off before holding it out to her.

"I love you, Christine. More than my heart will allow. Marry _me_?" he asked. Christine smiled at the man in front of her before holding out her hand. Erik smiled the biggest smile she had ever seen from him and he slipped the ring onto her finger before she kissed him once more, allowing him to roll her onto her back on the bed, their bodies sliding sensually against each others.

"I love you, Erik," Christine sighed gently, letting her Angel of Music kiss her, filling up her senses with just him.

"Oh, Christine ..."

" ... Christine?"

The soprano let her eyes flutter open, bringing her out of her dream addled haze. The feel of a large hand shaking her shoulder brought her back to the world of the living. Her eyes met the ocean blue of Erik's eyes. He was already up and dressed, mask back on his face. It had all been a dream. She quickly looked down at her wedding finger, noting it bare; unlike it had been in the dream. Erik had asked her to marry him and she had accepted. Oh how she wished it had been real. She sat up, holding the crimson sheets of his bed up to cover her modesty.

"Erik ..."

"Your boy is looking for you on the surface. I should take you back ..." he said, turning away from her to leave the room.

"Did I not tell you that I loved you?" she said, frowning at his retreating back.

"You did, but I am a monster Christine, we have been though this. I am the beast who secretly dreams of beauty ..." he said and before he knew it, Christine was up out of bed, holding the sheet securely around her with one hand as the other came up to collide with his cheek, the sound echoing around the cavern. Erik's eyes widened in surprise at the woman's strength, rubbing his suddenly throbbing cheek.

"Erik, I gave myself to you. My voice; my body; my mind," she reminded him. "And you want to return me to Raoul."

"I don't want to; God knows I do not want to ..."

"Then don't send me away, I beg you, Erik," she said, reaching forward to grip his shirt with one small hand. "Let me stay." Erik turned his head from her, unable to look into her beautiful eyes. "Erik, do you think that I would have surrendered my body, given you every fibre of my being, if I did not want to be with you?" Erik suddenly turned to her, his large hands reaching out and grabbing her upper arms, holding her in his tight grip. His control was slipping and his want for the temptress in front of him was tipping the scale.

"Christine, I am not rich; I am not, definitely not, handsome. Like I said, I am a monster. We are opposites. You are the beauty and I am the beast. But you are the beauty I cannot have in my life. I have already tainted you ..."

"I wanted you ..."

"... and I have ruined your innocence by putting my hands on you to begin with. We cannot go on, Christine. I fear if I do not, I will never be able to let you go," he said. He reached to stroke her cheek gently before he turned away, not wanting to see the tears leaking from her eyes. "Get dressed. You have rehearsal." He picked up a dress and handed it to her before she suddenly collapsed to the ground in a fit of sobs. Erik suddenly reached out to catch her falling body as she sobbed against his chest. His heart broke as she made those wretched noises and he knew it was all his fault.

"Why, Erik? Why do you never believe me?"

"Christine ..."

"I woke to swear my love. I dreamed that you asked me to marry you and I accepted. I woke, hoping it wasn't a dream and your ring would be upon my hand, not Raoul's," she said, as Erik's strong arms held her closer with every word she spoke. "I want to be yours, forever." Erik's eyes fluttered closed at those words before he pressed a kiss into her hair. The woman would be the death of him.

**-x-**

Rehearsals for the Phantom's opera went by full of fear that the composer was somewhere watching; lurking in the shadows, watching their every move. Christine tried to stay out of the way of others when they rehearsed and they stayed out of her way when she did. No one really wanted to know how the Phantom had come to write an opera for Christine. Rumours were going around that he was obsessed with her; some said she was the Phantom's whore. She didn't confirm or deny anything.

She had not heard from Erik in days. After rehearsals, she would go back to her dressing room and sit in front of the mirror, hoping he would show up to talk to her, but nothing. It upset her that he wouldn't talk, wouldn't come to her. Finally giving one last glace at the mirror after her seventh day of waiting, she decided to dress for bed, realising that he would not come, no matter how long she waited. She got up from her chair, loosening the ties on her dress before a knock suddenly came on her dressing room door. She sighed deeply and moved towards it, pulling it open to reveal Raoul standing there.

"Lotte," he said gently. "Are you alright? How are rehearsals?" He moved forward to take her hands.

"Raoul, it's late. What are you doing here at this hour?" she asked, purposely standing back so that she did not have to take his outstretched hands. She sat down upon her chaise, looking up at him for explanation. Raoul seemed genuinely confused at her, the way she was acting. He put down his hat and gloves upon her dressing table before he moved to sit next to her. He noticed her shift along the chaise a little as he sat, trying not to let the pain in his chest worry him for the moment.

"Christine, you have been acting very differently lately. Are you well?" he asked, looking concerned for her. Christine sighed deeply.

"Rehearsals have been stressful. But I am perfectly well, Raoul," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must retire for the evening."

"Christine ...?"

"Raoul! Please. I will speak to you another day," she said, opening the door for the Vicomte. She felt terrible for treating him the way she was but, deep down, she knew her heart belonged to Erik and that wasn't going to change. She would have to get her ring back from Erik that he took from her at the masked ball and give it back to Raoul, letting him down gently. She knew it was for the best. Raoul finally sighed and got up, picking up his hat and gloves from the dressing table again and stalking from the room without so much as a 'goodnight.' Christine didn't really think she deserved it anyway, after how rude she was. She sighed to herself and moved behind her changing divider, stripping out of her dress and pulling on her dressing gown; the same one she wore when she first met Erik. If he wasn't going to come to her, she was going to make him.

**-x-**

The opera house was shrouded in darkness apart from a few oil lamps as Christine walked silently through the corridors towards the stage. She hoped she wouldn't attract too much attention with her plan. She would sing for him, draw him out with the power of her voice, the voice she knew he couldn't resist. Encountering no one on her travels, she arrived backstage and slowly made her way onto the main stage, looking out over the auditorium, imagining thousands of people filling the seats. She smiled brightly, curtseying as if to a real audience. Then her eyes fell onto _his _box, making her turn and also curtsey, as if he was sitting watching her. She took a deep breath and moved to the front of the stage, the lanterns at her feet lighting her features. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to sing for him; her angel.

_I wonder if you knew, every time we met,  
>I was trembling inside,<br>I longed to take your hand for we stood so close,  
>Yet the distance seemed so wide,<br>I was waiting for a time, a turn, a sign,  
>As the days kept rushing by,<br>And it all went so fast; a moment had passed;  
>And I know that you're gone; yet the hunger lives on<em>

Christine opened her eyes. In her mind, every seat in the auditorium had Erik sitting there, watching her perform with nothing but a smile on his lips and love in his eyes. He watched her, entranced by her voice, like she had been by his when they first met. Little did she know that the real Erik had entered Box five, watching his angel with all the amazement she was imagining in her mind. He kept to the shadows, noting the way she looked around as if she were looking for him. She suddenly stepped closer to the edge of the stage, her eyes fluttering closed once more as the music she could only hear in her mind consumed her soul.

_And now, I need to tell you now,  
>I need to tell you how you make me feel,<br>There's only now; what point is there to wait?  
>Tomorrow is too late, I can't conceal,<br>That I may not ever have another day,  
>So I have to say what I have to say,<br>I love you and I need to tell you now ...'_

Erik closed his eyes as he watched her suddenly sink to her knees, suddenly saying his name as the tears fell down her cheeks. He had to go to her. This couldn't go on anymore.

Christine let the tears fall freely, almost surrendering to the fact he wasn't going to come. Suddenly, a presence became known and she felt strong hands on her shoulders as someone knelt by her.

"I am your Angel of Music ..." Erik whispered in her ear as she turned to face him. He took her by the hands and he helped her up from the ground before he was suddenly startled when she pounded her small fists into his chest.

"Why didn't you come to me?" she asked, her voice betraying her and cracking with emotion. Erik pulled her to him.

"I didn't want to believe you really loved me. I thought it a cruel joke," he explained. "Come; come with me, Angel of Music." Christine moved to press a kiss to Erik's lips, her hands cupping his chin as his malformed lips devoured her own. He suddenly pulled away. "Not here; come."

As they left the stage, none of them noticed Raoul de Chagny at the back of the auditorium, absolutely horrified at what he had just witnessed.

* * *

><p><em>The song I used in this is called 'Now' from the musical Dr Zhivago, starring Anthony Warlow. I think it's such a beautiful song and fitted in very well. I wasn't going to continue this fic, but I've decided why not. :) Hope you like. More soon.<em>


	3. Your Hand at the Level of Your Eyes

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**Three**

_(AN: Raoul maybe a bit OOC in this chapter)_

"Erik?"

"Hm?"

"I'm going to need Raoul's ring back ..." Christine said, her finger drawing patterns on the masked man's naked chest. She was laid beside him in his bed once more, clothes strewn over the floor, with Erik's strong arm around her. Erik's eyes flew open and his head turned so fast she was afraid he'd hurt himself.

"So am I your bit on the side? Your _dirty_ little secret?" he said, the hurt in his voice evident as he sat up. "You'll still go and marry him?" To his confusion, Christine started to laugh, pulling the sheets up over her face so that Erik couldn't see her as she tried to cease her giggling. "Now you mock me, woman! What on Earth are you laughing at?" Christine pulled the sheet down, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"You silly man. I was going to give him it back. You know, let him down gently," she said. "You always jump to conclusions." Erik just pointed to his mask.

"Do you blame me? I keep thinking to myself I'm going to wake up from a dream any minute because there is no chance any woman would be in bed with a monster. And here you are," he said. Christine looked around the room, an expression of confusion on her face. "What's the matter?"

"Hmm, I was just checking. I don't see any monsters here. I only see one _handsome_ man," he said, running her thumb over his lips.

"Handsome?"

"Oh yes. You have beautiful blue eyes; an adorable nose ..." she said, making Erik scoff. " Strong cheekbones; absolutely sinful lips and your distortion does not bother me at all. Now I mean everything I say; why don't you believe that I love you?" Erik sighed and lay down on the bed again, pulling her down with him.

"It is not that I don't believe you. In fact, I believe you are the only person who could. You have a beautiful soul, Christine. You have so much love inside you," he said. "It's just I haven't had any love shown to me before. My mother beat me; denied me a kiss on my birthday because of my face. So I had my doubts." He watched her for a moment, their eyes speaking thousands of words that didn't need to be said aloud. "I do love you, Christine Daae. I have since I first heard you sing." He leaned in, catching her lips with his. She gave in to his kiss, moaning softly against his lips as he pulled her closer to his body. Her fingers came up to his face to pry away his mask before dropping it to the floor. Erik pushed against her, his kiss deepening to the point of being unable to breathe. Those were Christine's favourite kisses. Christine spread her legs beneath him, letting him rest between them, the evidence of his arousal pressing against her centre. Erik's kisses left her lips and travelled down her face, down her neck and down her perfect body. He kissed her like she'd disappear at any given moment, like she'd fall from his arms, like it was a dream. But she was here and very real.

"Erik ..." she moaned gently, her body arching artistically, as she allowed him to taste her skin. Her small hands slid up onto his shoulders, nails digging into the creamy flesh there, causing him to groan against the underside of her breast. "Please, Erik. I'm ready." Suddenly his lips were on hers again and he was inside her, buried deep within her willing body. Her hand came up to caress his distorted cheek, noting his eyes fluttering closed and his hand coming up to cover hers.

"Christine," he whispered. "No one would ever dare touch my face. You ..."

"Shh," she said gently. "I love you Erik. _Please_, move." Erik did as he was told, moving within her exquisite body. The sound she was making was like music to his ears as her hands tried to touch every inch of his body. "Turn over ..."

"What?"

"Erik ... over onto your back ..." she said and Erik pulled out of her and did as she asked. Christine sat up and straddled his waist, her fully naked body there for his eyes to drink in. His eyes widened at what she was doing; she was never usually so bold. She leaned down to kiss his lips once more as she sank down onto him, feeling him bite down on her bottom lip as she did so.

"You are a devil woman," Erik said, chuckling.

"I don't hear you complaining," she said, taking his hands and placing them on her waist before she held herself, her hands flat over the broad expanse of his chest. She noticed Erik's eyes hovering at her breasts like he had never seen them before. While he seemed to be distracted, she pushed herself up before sinking back down upon him, making his head fall back into the pillow and his eyes fly closed.

"Christine ..." he moaned gently. She had suddenly gone from a shy chorus girl to a woman, the look on her face sinful as she bounced like she was riding a horse. His stomach tightened uncomfortably as the pleasure shot through him. Christine's moans echoed through the cavern he called home, until they both cried out together and collapsed into a sated heap, their sweat drenched bodies curled up together.

"Sleep, _mon ange_," Erik said, kissing her forehead.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" she asked.

"Always."

**-x-**

Christine sat at her dressing table, removing her makeup, after another day of gruelling rehearsals. Erik's opera definitely needed a lot of work. It had been the day for the big duet between Aminta and Don Juan. She remembered feeling repulsed by Piangi's hands on her, wishing they were Erik's instead. She remembered the look Carlotta had given her when Piangi had her in the most intimate of poses and holds. Just thinking about it made her want to vomit. Why couldn't Erik himself be Don Juan? Of course he couldn't, she thought to herself, he'd be found out and locked away by the gendarmes. She was suddenly shaken from her thoughts at a loud bang on the door. Christine felt her heartbeat quicken in shock, suddenly getting up and opening it, only to see Raoul standing there.

"Raoul, are you alright?" she asked, noting the stench of alcohol even though he wasn't really drunk. "What's wrong?" Raoul pushed passed her and closed the door behind him, locking it. "Raoul, what are you doing? Why are you here?" She backed away from him, suddenly afraid, more afraid now than she had ever been of Erik.

"I just happened to be leaving the Opera House last night after a few drinks with Andre and Firmin," he said, his words a little slurred. "... and I happened to leave out of the back of the auditorium." He noticed the colour suddenly drain from Christine's face and her hands begin to shake, no matter how much she tried to hide them.

"W – what does that have to do with me?" she asked, quietly.

"Hold on, Lotte. I'm getting there," he said, a horrid smirk on his face. "Anyway, I heard some beautiful singing on the way out and noticed you standing there, singing your heart out. So I decided to watch for a while. Until I realised I wasn't the only one watching." Christine's eyes left his and hit the floor, unable to keep his gaze. "Your Angel of Music, am I right?" Christine didn't answer. "Am I RIGHT, Christine?" Christine nodded gently, backing away from him once more. She slipped her hand into her corset and produced a chain with his ring on it.

"I was going to tell you. I can't marry you, Raoul ..." she said, pressing the ring into his hand.

"Can't? Or won't?" he sneered. Christine let the tears slip down her cheeks.

"Please don't talk to me like that Raoul ..." she started but she was cut off when he suddenly pushed her up against the mirror, his large hand clamped around her throat, not hard enough to cut off the complete air supply, but she still struggled to breathe. "R-Raoul!"

"So, what? You are going to marry your Angel of Music? The masked man you were so afraid of? You told me of his face that night on the roof; how distorted, deformed it was. How it was hardly a face. Yet, you want to give up this ..." he pointed to his own flawless, handsome face. Yet it wasn't Erik's. "... for a monster?"

"Raoul ... p-please. You're ... I c-can't breathe," she moaned, her eyes drooping as she became drowsy. "I l-love you only as a-a b-brother. P-please." She clutched at Raoul's forearm before she was suddenly dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Raoul threw the ring down to the ground beside her as she struggled to keep her eyes open. "You will regret this, Christine Daae." That was all Christine heard before she suddenly lost consciousness; the world around her going black.

**-x-**

Erik couldn't help the smile on his face as he made his way through his labyrinthine underground to visit Christine in her dressing room. It had been a few days since he had last seen her; she had been so busy with rehearsals that every time he visited she had been asleep. But he had always left a rose for her when she woke up. Hopefully she wasn't asleep now. His smile widened as he saw the candlelight through her mirror at the end of the passage, meaning she was still awake. His pace quickened as he approached the mirror, but he could not see Christine in the dressing room. He frowned gently before something caught his eye. Raoul's ring was on the floor next to a hand. Christine's hand. Erik suddenly threw the mirror open, dropping the beautiful red rose in his hand to the ground as he rushed to his beloved angel. She was unconscious.

"Christine, oh God. Christine?" he wailed, pulling her up against him as he knelt down next to her. There was bruising around her neck, Erik noted, and it made his blood boil. How dare anyone harm his angel? Suddenly, her eyes flickered open and she almost sobbed with relief when she saw it was Erik.

"Angel ..." she sighed gently.

"Christine, who did this?" he asked, pulling her closer to him. Christine hesitated for a few moments. "Was it the boy?" That was when she started crying.

"Oh, Erik. He was my best friend. How could he do this to me? I only meant to give him the ring back," she said. "He saw us, Erik. That night on the stage when I sang for you."

"Let us worry about that later, my angel. I'm taking you to Madame Giry," he said.

"But ..."

"She knows about me, my love," he said. "She'll tell you the story one day, I'm sure." He lifted Christine into his arms, feeling her sag against his body, defeated.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Anything for you, my angel."

* * *

><p><em>Short I know, but more soon. Promise. ;) xx<em>


	4. Twisted Every Way

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 4**

"Erik, what is going on?"

"Madame, the Vicomte tried to strangle her. I want that boy's head on a platter."

Christine heard the hushed voices from across the room as she feigned sleep. Erik had been so good to her, barely leaving her side as she had drifted in and out of sleep while Madame Giry had snuck out into the darkness to get them some food, or really just using it as an excuse not to disturb the phantom and his angel. Christine listened to them bicker, wondering how long they had known one another.

"She loves me, Antoinette. She had told me herself. She does not see me as a monster but a normal man," he said. Christine could hear the rustling of his suit, not knowing what he was doing. "She has kissed this face, my dear friend, many times. And my heart swells with love for her when she does. She is not frightened of me."

"Erik?" Christine said gently, opening her eyes to see both Erik and Madam Giry turn in her direction. Erik was on his feet, moving to her bedside. He smiled down at her, taking her small hands in his.

"How are you, angel?" he asked her, kissing her fingers gently. Christine smiled back.

"I'm fine, Erik. I just don't want _him_ near me anymore," she said. She bit her lip to try and hold back her tears. "He scared me, Erik. He was my childhood _friend_. I thought he was going to kill me." Erik stroked her cheek gently, pushing her hair from her face before leaning down to press a kiss to her lips.

"He won't harm you again, not if I have anything to do with it ..." he said, feeling the anger boil up deep within his being. He had promised himself he would never see his angel harmed; now here she was, bruises littering her neck from the Vicomte de Chagny's filthy hands. He knew how much Christine would be against it but he wanted to snap de Chagny's neck, kill him where he stood for putting a finger on Christine. A small touch to his cheek snapped him out of his thoughts. Christine smiled gently up at him before sitting up.

"Are you alright? Maybe you should rest a little longer," he said, trying to make sure she was safe.

"I am uncomfortable lying down now. I need to stand up for a while," she said and Erik helped her from the bed, her hands against his chest to hold her up, her eyes locking with the masked man's. Madam Giry watched them for a moment, wondering how on Earth this had all came about, especially after the Masquerade and the unmasking Erik had told her about. Now here she was, Christine Daae, not a care in the world that the man in front of her was holding her, that he had _kissed_ her on the lips.

"Antoinette, will you look after Christine for me? I have an errand to run," he said gently, finally looked up from his beloved to his long-time friend. He felt Christine's grip on his suit jacket tighten and he kissed her forehead affectionately. "Do not worry. I will return soon."

"Of course Erik," Madam Giry said.

"You will come back?" Christine asked, her fingers reluctant to remove themselves from Erik's jacket. "Please come back." Erik ran his fingers through Christine's curls, noting her eyes flutter closed at the contact. Once more he leaned down to kiss her lips, her body seeming to melt in his embrace before he pulled away.

"I promise you, Christine Daae. I will be back within the hour," he said, kissing her knuckles once she was convinced enough to let him go. "I will take you home when I get back."

"Home?" She frowned gently.

"To the lair," he said. Her frown became a smile, the thought of her home being with him. "I promise you." Then in a quick few seconds, his clock was around his shoulders and he was out the door as quickly as he could be. Christine smiled, her fingers touching her lips gently as Madam Giry took her arm and made her sit down on the bed. There was a silence between the two women as if they did not know what to say to each other. Madam Giry was the one to break it.

"Christine ..."

"Madam, please. You must know. I love Erik deeply. In a way I always have. I understand if you disagree with our relationship but that is your opinion. Please do not see me as being under his spell, as the ballet girls call it. I am with him of my own free will because he will have me," Christine said, watching as Madam Giry's eyebrows jumped up to her hairline.

"Christine, my dear, the fact you and Erik are together pleases me immensely, but you must understand from what has transpired in this opera house, the residents see him as a dangerous man. If the Vicomte relays what he saw on the stage between yourself and Erik, there could be more danger. Erik will do what he has to do to protect you, including kill. He would not be shy. He would kill a living man if he so much as let off the intention to harm a hair on your head," Madam Giry explained. "I love Erik like the brother I never had. He is very dear to me, as are you. Promise me you will take great care. Please Christine." Christine reached over to the ballet mistress, taking her hands in her own.

"Madam Giry, you have my word," she said, softly. "I promise. I also promise to make Erik happy, as he does to me." Madam Giry smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Christine's forehead, cupping her cheek gently.

"I have no doubt of that, ma petite," she said. "No doubt at all." Both women sat in a comfortable silence before Christine spoke once more.

"Will you tell me how you met Erik?"

**-x-**

The streets of Paris were silent and, luckily, the moon hit behind the clouds in the sky, shrouding the city in darkness. The darkness was Erik's friend. He had learned through his years how to use the darkness to his advantage, but at the time of night it was, no one would even bat an eyelid at the masked man shrouded in black clothing, riding a black horse up the cobbled streets. The few people that were on the street, merely saw a movement at the corner of their eye; only Cesar's hooves upon the cobbles their indication anyone was there. Lifting his head for the first time since he left the opera house, Erik stopped Cesar outside the de Chagny manor. Eye flashing dangerously as he caught a glimpse of the Vicomte at the upper window (luckily, one with the balcony), he turned his obedient horse into the garden of the manor, no one standing watch this evening to stop him. Cesar moved silently into the garden before Erik stopped him, climbing down and tying the horse up out of sight. The horse nudged his master with his head, making Erik sigh.

"You wait here. I will be back for you," he said, stroking the horse's nose. Erik moved forward, locating a wooden trellis beneath the balcony. Hooking his fingers around the wood, he began to climb. The anger at what the Vicomte had done to his angel was boiling in his stomach, making him want to wring the boy's neck. But he would not have killing on his conscience. Not now. Making it to the top, he climbed onto the balcony and approached the glass doors. Looking inside, he noted the Vicomte sitting at a desk in the corner, writing a letter. Erik silently unlatched the doors and pushed them open, careful not to make any noise as he stood in the doorway. It took the Vicomte a good while, and a good few gulps of his brandy, before he looked up into the mirror in front of him, noting the dark figure reflected behind him. Raoul turned around quickly, his eyes meeting the Phantom's for a moment, before he was up and going for his gun. But Erik was quick; he was across the room like a shot, kicking out at the Vicomte's hand, making him drop the gun he had acquired, knocking him to the floor in the process.

"Get up, boy," Erik seethed, his voice harsh and commanding. Raoul did not move which angered Erik further. "Get. Up." Raoul did as he was told this time and before he knew it, he was pinned against the wall, Erik's hand bunched up in his waistcoat. "You know why I am here, boy. Don't you?"

"Get your filthy hands off me ..." Raoul complained, but was pushed harder into the wall. Erik was strong and was not giving up easily.

"You know _why_ I am here, correct?" he asked again. "If you ever put your hands on my angel again, I will not be accountable for my actions. Do you understand me?" Before Erik could get an answer out of him, he was hit in the eye by a wad of saliva. Erik reeled back trying to get the spit out of his eyes before Raoul lunged at him, landing a hard punch to his jaw, almost knocking his mask from his face. But Erik was quick again. Before the next punch, Erik grabbed the Vicomte's incoming fist as his other fist met Raoul's stomach, making him double over in pain. Erik moved to get him again but Raoul was the quick one this time, landing a kick to his legs, knocking Erik to the floor.

"I don't understand why she would want someone as hideous as you when she can have someone as handsome as me. She's delusional and she will be mine, Phantom. Mark my words," Raoul taunted and once again, he was pinned to the wall, this time by his throat. He gagged and choked as Erik's grip got tighter. "I ... I will have her. Y-you w-will lose." When Erik was satisfied he had squeezed enough air out of him enough without killing him, he let the Vicomte go, watching his body crumple to the ground as he fought to catch his breath. As he began to lose consciousness, Erik looked over him and removed his mask. Raoul's expression was one of disgust but that did not matter.

"You remember, boy, that this is the face Christine wants to be with. Not your pretty boy face. This hideous beast has found the beauty he has been searching for all his life and I'll be damned if I let a fop like you steal that away from me," he whispered. Raoul struggled to keep conscious as Erik placed the mask back on before striding over Raoul's body back to the balcony. He turned back to Raoul for a moment. "Heed my warning, Vicomte de Chagny. I do not like to repeat myself."

Then, before Raoul lost consciousness, Erik was gone.

**-x-**

Christine opened her eyes to see she was in the lair. She knew she had fallen asleep waiting on Erik to come back. He had obviously carried her home while she was out. Footsteps in the main cavern made her look up from the bed, only to see him enter the room. When he noticed she was awake, he moved further into the room. The smile she suddenly gave him was bright enough to light the darkest of places; he wished to see that smile from her every time he came back to her. She was the light in his darkness and he loved her for it. He smiled back, shedding his cloak before stepping into the candlelight. Her smile was suddenly gone, a frown now apparent on her features.

"Erik, what is wrong with your face?" she asked. Erik smirked.

"I was deformed at birth, my love," he said, chuckling when she rolled her eyes. It wasn't like him to make a joke of his own deformity but he didn't know what on earth she was talking about. Christine reached forward, running two fingers along his jaw line, making him wince.

"You're black and blue," she stated. "Have you been fighting? Has someone seen you?" She sounded panicked. Erik sat down on the bed, taking her shoulders in his hands.

"I merely went to see the Vicomte," he said, rubbing her shoulders in comfort. Christine's mouth fell open in shock.

"Erik, my God. Why? He'll come after us ..." she said. Erik shook his head.

"He won't if he knows what is good for him. I merely let him know of where we stood and what I thought of what he did to you. I am not standing for it happening again," he said. "I did it for your safety. But no, I wasn't seen by anyone but the Vicomte. He merely received the same treatment as he gave to you."

"He's ... he's alive? You didn't kill him," she said, her heart hammering in her chest.

"No, my love. He will be hurting for a few days, his pride especially, but nothing to concern ourselves with," he said, kissing her forehead. "Now, you have Don Juan rehearsals tomorrow and I cannot have my leading lady too tired to perform." Christine grimaced. "What's the matter, love?"

"I hate having Piangi touching me so intimately during rehearsals. Your opera is so sensual and seductive, I understand why he has to do it. But his touch repulses me," she said. She took his hands and placed them against her sides, level with her breasts. "I can do nothing else but imagine your hands on my body."

"Then that is all you have to imagine, love. Don't worry. Just pretend I am there," he said, smirking gently, not that Christine noticed. "Come, you must sleep."

"Stay with me. Please. I love having you beside me. It comforts me," she said. He nodded and got up from the bed, pulling his suit jacket, cravat and waistcoat off, toeing off his boots before climbing into the bed, scooting closer to Christine and settling his head upon her breasts, like they were a set of obscene pillows, but she didn't seem to mind. As they settled to sleep, Erik felt Christine slowly remove his mask and trail her soft fingers down his damaged cheek, He felt a lone tear escape his eye, falling onto Christine's skin. God, how he loved her.

The Vicomte would not ruin this for him. Not now, not ever.

As for Don Juan Triumphant, Erik had a plan.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry I took so long to update but I hope this satisfies you greatly. :) I love writing Erik and Christine so much, and there will be more Raoul bashing in the future, so beware. :) You know where the button is ;) xxxx<strong>


	5. Don Juan Triumphant

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 5**

The rehearsal was a disaster. Everything was going wrong. Pieces of the sets had fallen down, almost causing accidents; three of the violin players had misplaced their bows before they were due to start and, to top it all off, Carlotta had taken a temper tantrum about how Piangi never touched her like he did with Christine. He tried to calm her down, explaining he was acting, like he did every night on the stage. Everyone was getting on Monsieur Reyer's nerves and they were shocked when he finally snapped, yelling at everyone on the stage. Christine just sat on the bench at the prop table, head in her hands. She had never wanted to scream more in her life. She had tried so hard once again to think of Erik on stage with her, touching her, caressing her, his lips on her skin. But no, she was stuck with Signor Piangi, the one man she didn't want to perform with, all because of his temperamental wife. When she lifted her head, speak of the devil, Carlotta stood over her.

"What makes you so special? You are a child," she sneered. "You must be giving yourself to the Opera Ghost for him to give _you_ the lead. Is that where those bruises on your neck came from, girl?" Carlotta leaned closer. "Do you like it rough with the Opera Ghost?" That was it. Christine had had enough. She launched herself out of her seat and onto Carlotta, screaming at her. She would never have usually done something like that but the woman infuriated her. Scratching at Carlotta, one hand catching her across the cheek _hard_, she realised she had never been so angry in her life. Suddenly, someone's arms were around her, pulling her off of the diva.

"Christine, enough now," Madame Giry said into her ear as she pulled her away. Christine felt the tears run down her face, her cheek stinging from where Carlotta had managed to swipe back at her. Once Christine was calm enough, she turned to the rest of the company, who stood there in shock.

"Is that what you all think? I am the Phantom's whore. You are wrong. You don't know anything. You have no right to judge me," she screamed at the startled company. "And _you_ ..." her eyes locked with Carlotta, who was nursing her cheek, which was getting redder by the second. "... if you hadn't stomped off the stage on the final rehearsal of Hannibal, you'd still be the star. I was thrust into the spotlight because of _your_ temper tantrums. So you only have yourself to blame." Madam Giry held her tightly, Meg moving closer to keep her calm. Christine suddenly broke down into tears, pushing out of Madam Giry's arms and away from Meg, running off the stage and in the direction of her dressing room, rushing inside and locking the door behind her, knocking bottles of scent from her dressing table in her anger. Resting her head against the door, she let the tears fall down her cheeks. No one else knew Erik, no one but _her_. They couldn't say those things about him. She wouldn't stand for it. Suddenly, two long fingered hands slid over her shoulders, caressing her skin gently. Christine leaned back into the embrace she knew too well.

"Fighting during rehearsals, Christine?" Erik said gently. "What happened?"

"Carlotta, as usual," Christine said, sniffing before wiping away the tears from her cheeks. "I hate her. She is a vile, cruel woman." She turned in his arms to face him, her eyes glassy with tears. Erik cupped her cheeks, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "Erik, I cannot do this. Please. I cannot take another day of her snapping, of her husband's vile touch." She shivered at the thought of it, her face contorted in a grimace. "Please."

"Christine, listen to me. There are only four more rehearsals before the show opens. Please do this for me, for your angel of music," he said, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "For me, my love." Christine closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry; of course I will. I did not mean to get upset. I will do it for you; only you," she said. Sliding her hands under the lapels of his suit jacket, she stared up into his beautiful eyes. "Kiss me ... please." Erik could do nothing but obey. His lips met hers, fitting with her own perfectly, just like they always did. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Erik pulled away quickly, intending to hide.

"Christine, it is Madam Giry. Open the door, please," the ballet mistress begged. Christine looked up at Erik, who nodded and Christine did as she was told. Madame Giry slipped inside, locking the door behind her again, and looked slightly surprised to see Erik there. "The Vicomte is on his way." Those six words made Christine look like she was about to faint and Erik to ball his fists by his sides.

"That insolent boy. He was warned ..." Erik said, cut off when Christine placed her hands on his chest.

"Hide. I'll deal with him," she said. "Both of you. Please." Erik was reluctant to let her go. "Erik, you need to. He can't see you here. Please." Suddenly the door handle was rattled before Raoul began beating the door with his fist. Having no time to get behind the mirror, Madam Giry and Erik hid behind Christine's changing divider. "Please, stay out of sight." Erik nodded, kissing her quickly before there was another loud bang on the door.

"I'm coming," Christine said, trying to sound normal. She took a deep breath and unlocked the door, Raoul barging in almost immediately. Christine was frightened but knowing Erik was mere inches away, it made her feel a little safer.

"Your demon ... he ... he came to my goddamn house and attacked me. Christine, he is dangerous," Raoul was blunt about it all, coming right out and saying it. Christine saw the bruises on Raoul's face, no doubt from Erik's fists. Such gentle hands turned into lethal weapons so easily. Christine watched him for a moment; he was shaking and the stench of alcohol coming from him was overpowering to say the least.

"Raoul, please, I want you to go ..." she said. Suddenly Raoul was on his knees in front of Christine, his hands on her waist.

"Please, you mean more to me than life itself. You must know that. I love you, Christine Daae. I want you to marry me. You do not know what that monster is like," he said. Christine could just imagine Erik's face from his hiding place. He was sure Madam Giry would be holding him back from attacking the Vicomte once more. Christine's hands went to his shoulders, trying to push him off her.

"Raoul, please, I have asked you to leave," she said again, getting agitated. "Why do you never listen to me? This, you and I, is never going to happen, Raoul. I don't love you. You are still the same little boy I see when we were at the beach house. You are my friend, not my fiancé, and I will never be your wife. You need to see that." If Christine could have seen Erik at that moment in time, she would have seen him breathe a sigh of relief. "And that monster you talk about, he is all man, Raoul. I love him and nothing you ..." she was cut off by Raoul standing quickly and the back of his hand across her cheek knocking her to the floor.

"Has he raped you? Is he making you say these things?" Raoul cried out. "He is a beast, Christine. A freak. He belongs in a cage, not with someone like you." Christine gasped suddenly as Erik moved out of his hiding place, moving behind Raoul. He obviously heard the slap and her fall. As Raoul turned to leave, he was grabbed by the throat once more, which was still tender from the last attack.

"I warned you before. I am sick of your attitude. And you dare strike down the woman you supposedly love? You're lucky to still be breathing," Erik sneered. Madam Giry appeared at his side, touching his arm gently, watching as Raoul slowly went blue in the face. "Anything Christine and I have done is of no concern of yours but rape? You think the Opera Ghost is so unworthy of love he'd rape the first young woman that came along? Now, get out, before I tear you limb from limb and throw you into my canal where no one will ever find you." He turned and threw Raoul against the door, who slumped down and gasped deeply for breath. He looked Erik in the eyes. "This is not called attacking. This is me looking out for the woman I love." He turned to Christine and he knelt down to help her up from the floor, Raoul watching as Christine slid her arms around his neck, sinking into his embrace.

"I think you'd best leave, monsieur," Madam Giry said. "And do not disturb Miss Daae again or the authorities will be noted of the harassment you are causing." Raoul clenched his jaw, pointing his finger at Madam Giry.

"You know about this freak? This monster. Have you seen his face?" Raoul yelled.

"Monsieur, get out this instant," Madam Giry said, trying not to raise her voice at him. "Please."

"This is not over," he said, rubbing the tender skin around his neck. "It will never be over until you are dead, monsieur."

"Death is not in my near future. It might be in yours if you do not leave Miss Daae in peace," Erik said, holding Christine against his chest.

"Erik, please ..." Christine said, burying her face into his chest to stop the tears as Madam Giry ushered the Vicomte out before locking the door once more. The whole room seemed to sigh in relief as Raoul left. Christine felt her legs give out underneath her, sliding down to the floor, Erik's arms around her. Her heartbeat was thumping against her breast as she clung to Erik for dear life.

"He will come back, no doubt with police. But we do not know when he will strike," Madam Giry said quietly. "Erik, you put yourself in immense danger. What were you thinking?"

"For the first time, Antoinette, I wasn't. All that went through my head was to make sure Christine was alright. If I am to worry about my own safety because I worried about the woman I love, then so be it. Let the Vicomte bring on whatever he wants. I'll be ready."

**-x-**

"Andre! Firmin!"

The opera managers, Richard Firmin and Gilles Andre, looked up from their desks as the Vicomte de Chagny strolled in, looking worse for wear. Both stood up as they took in his appearance.

"My God, Vicomte, what happened?" Firmin asked, turning and pouring Raoul a large brandy from the decanter behind him. Raoul was physically shaking, with anger or fear neither manager knew, and his face and neck was bruised black and blue. "Vicomte?"

"The Opera Ghost ... the goddamn 'Phantom of the Opera' is real, messieurs. And he has taken Christine from me ..." he said, watching as the two managers exchanged glances. "His opera opens on Saturday, correct? There is only one thing to do. He is in love with Christine so he is certain to attend. We shall play his game."

"We're listening."

"Go on."

"We get in the police; have them surrounding the auditorium. He will never know what has hit him. Christine will perform and he will attend. This is the only way to take him down. He is a murderer. He has already attacked me twice and I am sure he has raped my Christine, though she will not admit it," he said. "We make certain the doors are barred, police are there and armed. His reign over this opera house will come to an end. I will make sure of it."

"Consider it done, Vicomte. He has frightened us enough ..." Andre said.

"Good. Then what are we waiting for?"

* * *

><p><strong>I'm doing not too bad with updates at the moment. I hope you like this one. A little shorter than I had anticipated but the good stuff is coming, I promise you. :) I love feedback, btw. ;)<strong>


	6. Defenceless and Silent

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 6**

It was the morning of the performance and Christine was shaking. She had avoided Erik for two days after the confrontation with Raoul in her dressing room. It wasn't that she didn't want to see him, but after the confrontation and how nervous she was about the performance, she preferred not to. She knew that she'd probably see him after the performance. She picked up her teacup from the dressing table, her shaking hands making it rattle against the saucer it sat on. She took a gentle sip as not to spill the hot liquid in her nervousness. The thought of singing Erik's music, the sensual and erotic lyrics that were now embedded into her brain, in front of all of Paris had her stomach flipping. Putting down the teacup again so she didn't scald herself, she turned to her reflection in the full length mirror. She stood from her dressing table and walked closer. She took a deep breath and tried to smile, but she ended up looking like she was in some sort of pain.

"Oh Erik, how I wish to make you proud," Christine said, gently.

"You will do wonderfully, my dear," came Madam Giry's voice from the doorway, startling Christine who hadn't noticed her coming in. The ballet mistress entered the room fully, checking behind her to make sure she was alone before closing the door behind her.

"You really think so?" Christine asked, finally smiling through her nerves.

"I know so, Christine Daae. If the Angel of Music has taught you anything useful, then you will shine like the brightest star. Do not doubt yourself. Erik is a good teacher," Madam Giry said. "But I am here with news." Christine's smile turned to a frown as she sat down at her dressing table once more.

"News?" The ballet mistress nodded.

"I overheard Andre and Firmin discussing some important matter. I heard them mention 'The Opera Ghost' and I moved closer to listen in a little from the shadows. The Vicomte has ordered gendarmes to be stationed all over the auditorium; all doors secured, all men armed. They know Erik will attend the performance," she said. Noting Christine's distressed expression, Madam Giry took her hands. "You need to speak to him; tell him he cannot attend. He must stay away."

"But Madam, you know he will not go along with that. This is a masterpiece he has created and he will not allow himself to miss it. He will not listen," Christine said. "They'll kill him. They will kill him and there will be nothing that I can say that will stop him from attending." Christine felt unshed tears come to her eyes, before releasing down her cheeks, leaving wet streaks on her alabaster skin.

"You must try ..." Madam Giry said. "I must go. The ballet needs a final rehearsal before tonight's opening. Good luck." The ballet mistress kissed Christine's forehead gently before she left the room, taking one quick glance back at the young woman she saw as a daughter. How she had grown in these few years; how she had matured, found love. It shone through her eyes how happy she was with Erik. Madam Giry gave a small sigh before closing the door properly. Christine felt her nerves escalate again. She tied her robe around her before she moved to the mirror, ready to pull it open but before she could touch it, the glass slipped open and Erik stepped into the room. Christine looked up at him before throwing her arms around his neck.

"You heard?" she asked and felt Erik nod against her shoulder. She pulled back to cup his face. "Please, you cannot attend."

"I can and I will," Erik whispered. "No man with a gun will stop me. Not fifty men with guns. I swear I will be there to see you perform."

"Erik, you mustn't. What will I do if they kill you?" she asked, gripping at the collar of his coat. "You would leave me alone in this world alone?"

"Christine, they will not know if I am there or not. I will be in shadow. Nowhere to be seen," he said. Christine turned from him abruptly, turning back to her dressing table and sitting down.

"You don't understand ..." she said. "I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. If anything were to happen to you, I'd probably follow you into death. Would you have me die of a broken heart, Erik?" Erik moved in front of her, kneeling down, his face level with hers. He took her hands and sighed deeply.

"I cannot promise you that I will not attend, Christine, because I will no doubt break it. But nothing bad will happen to us," he said. He placed kisses upon her knuckles before he laid his head down on her knees, against her dressing gown. "I swear to you, once the show is over, we will be together forever. No Vicomte, no police. Just us." Christine could not help but smile gently, running her fingers through her lover's hair.

"Just us," she whispered.

"Now, I must leave you," he said, standing, her hand still in his. He pressed another kiss to her knuckles. "Once this is all over, we can be together properly. Pack some things before the show and leave them in here. I will collect them."

"Where are we going?" she asked, confused.

"I have a house in Calais, a safe house, away from here," he said. "We can go there and begin our life together. Only if that is what you truly want. If not I understand ..." He was cut off when Christine's lips pressed hard against his, her hands cupping his face and pulling him closer.

"I've never wanted anything more," she said against his lips and with one last kiss, he swept past her, towards the mirror, stopping to look back at her.

"And remember ... pretend those hands touching you are mine." And then he was gone.

**-x-**

The performance grew closer and closer, one final rehearsal happening before the real show. Christine felt sick. She sat off to the side of the stage, Meg Giry moving to sit next to her. She gripped for Meg's hand, taking it in hers and squeezing a little too hard.

"Are you alright? Mother told me everything that is going on. You know, with the Vicomte and the Phan ... erm, I mean Erik. Is it true? Are you in love with the Opera Ghost?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder. Christine could only smile at her friend's bluntness.

"He is a man, I assure you. And yes, I love him dearly," she said before looking around her to make sure no one was listening in before she leaned in closer to Meg. "Meg, you are my dearest friend and I have to tell you this. I am to leave tonight, after the opera. Erik is taking me away from here. I will never be safe when Raoul knows about us. I hope to return to singing once again but I need time away and I need to be with my angel." Meg squeezed her friend's hand.

"You definitely have my blessing," Meg said. "I couldn't be happier for you. You will write me, won't you? I do not want to lose you."

"Of course I will, you know that." Both girls hugged each other tightly before Monsieur Reyer spoke.

"That is the final rehearsal over. Well done, Messieurs and Mademoiselles. I will see you tonight for the grand opening," he called out, the cast splitting and leaving the stage, some making eyes in Christine's direction before leaving.

"Are you going back to the dormitories?" Christine asked Meg.

"Yes, aren't you coming?" she said, standing from her seat. Christine stood also.

"I will but first I am going to go to the chapel. I want to light a candle for my father, so I know he is there for me tonight," she said. Meg nodded gently and kissed her friend's forehead gently before leaving her alone. Christine wandered off the other side of the stage, nodding to Monsieur Reyer on the way past. She walked silently through the corridors, ignoring the stabbing gaze of the others as she made her way quickly to the chapel. Stepping inside, the cold air in the room hit her and she shivered. Looking down at the picture of Gustave Daae sitting on the candle holder in front of her, she smiled. Would her father be proud of her? If he were alive now, what would he say to her about her relationship with the masked man? She knelt down in front of the picture, lighting the candle that sat there beside it. Clasping her hands in front of her chest, she closed her eyes.

"Father, please. I am worried. I have fallen so deeply in love with a man everyone sees as a monster. I never expected to find love, never mind with my Angel of Music. He is a blessing; a friend; a mentor; my love. But there are plans against him. I must sing for him this evening. I told him of the plans, told him not to attend but he will not listen to me. Raoul means to kill him. My childhood friend. He is no longer the man I once knew. I have never had so much hatred in my heart for anyone as much as I do for him. I only wish to make Erik proud so we can be together properly. I hope you are watching over me as you always did. I will sing for Erik, papa, and I will sing for you. I promise." Christine wiped the tears from her eyes. Sudden footsteps entering the room made Christine freeze, almost afraid to turn around. Soft hands suddenly touched her face in a gentle manner and Christine closed her eyes at the touch for a moment. She was about to speak before she was cut off.

"I thought you might be in here," the voice said. That wasn't Erik. Christine's eyes shot open and she pushed the hands away from her, standing quickly. She turned to face the voice. Raoul.

"Why won't you leave me be?" she asked, backing away from him. "Please Raoul, leave me in peace." Raoul took a step towards her, making her step back further. "Don't you dare touch me."

"What will you do, Christine? You don't have a violent bone in your body," Raoul mocked. "You need to realise that you will never be happy with your monster. Not if I have anything to do with it. Wherever you go, I will find you. And I will happily be the one who kills that piece of vermin you call a lover. You will see eventually how big a mistake you are making."

"What has happened to you, Raoul? What are you? You certainly cannot be human. The Raoul I knew ran into the sea to fetch my scarf. The Raoul I knew was my best friend. This thing you have become is no friend of mine anymore," she said. Raoul suddenly lashed out, grabbing her wrist in his large hand. "Raoul, let me go. I'll scream for help. Erik is always nearby." Raoul looked around him, at the shadows and the doorway before he let go of her wrist.

"You will be sorry, Christine. Possibly sooner rather than later," he said, smirking. "I wish you luck in your performance tonight. I shall be watching from Box Five." Christine's eyes widened. "Until tonight, Christine." The soprano watched him leave, listening to his footsteps get further and further away before she collapsed on the floor, head in her hands, tears falling down her face.

"Christine?"

Christine looked up to see Meg enter the chapel, running to her friend's side and bringing her close in a hug. The two friends held on tight to each other before Meg spoke.

"I saw Raoul come out. Did he hurt you?" she asked, smoothing down her best friend's hair. Christine clutched her wrist in her other hand.

"He grabbed me but I told him Erik is always nearby if I screamed for help so he let me go and left," she whispered. "God, Meg. I'm so scared."

"Come on, we'll go rest up in your dressing room. Only two hours before the performance. We can't have you looking like this," she said, helping Christine to her feet. "Come on." Christine nodded and let her friend lead her out of the chapel. She took a deep breath, thinking towards the performance. God help her.

God help them all.

**-x-**

The thundering music of Erik's opera roared throughout the auditorium as Christine watched the scenes in front of her. Everything had gone well so far. The scenes with Piangi were coming up and she felt sick. She had to do this. She and Erik were leaving together after the performance so she had to make him proud. She watched Piangi and the other man, who played Passarino, singing together, almost time for her to go on.

" ... _I will say come hide with me, where, oh where, of course my room_," Piangi sang.

"_Poor thing hasn't got a chance_."

"_Here's my hat, my cloak and sword; conquest is assured. If I do not forget myself and laugh ... ha, ha, ha_," Piangi took a black mask from Passarino and he exited the stage. Christine closed her eyes and took a deep breath before putting on the best smile she could. She exited the wings, shaking like a leaf and she began to sing.

"_No thought within her head but thoughts of joy, no dreams within her heart but dreams of love_," she sang, watching the audience in front of her before her eyes found Raoul in Box Five. He nodded his head to her, his smirk evil. She looked away, sitting down on the bench next to the table, sitting suggestively, her thighs spread more than was necessary. She plucked an apple from the table and polished it on her golden skirt. Hundreds of eyes were on her and she wondered if one set of eyes were Erik's. One part of her hoped he was there and the other part hoped he had stayed as far away as possible. She wouldn't know until after the show. She sat waiting on Piangi to begin his verse, which was taking a little longer than she remembered in rehearsal. Or maybe it was just the nerves.

"**You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge**," came a voice from behind her, making her almost drop the apple from her hand and every hair on her body stood on end. That was definitely not Piangi's voice. "**In pursuit of that wish which 'til now has been silent** ..." Christine turned her head slowly, her eyes widening as she gazed upon the masked face of her lover. She'd know those eyes anywhere. He brought his fingers to his lips. " ... **silent**." Christine turned from him again, her breathing becoming harsh as his sinful voice wrapped itself around her soul. What was he doing here, she asked herself. Did he know the danger he was putting himself in? "**I have brought you that our passions may fuse and merge. In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defences, completely succumbed to me. Now you are here with me, no second thoughts." **Christine turned back to him, a small smile on her face now. She was sharing the same stage as the man she loved. "**You've decided**." Erik had moved closer, picking up a goblet from the table as she stood, their eyes meeting, the small smiles matching.

"**Decided**."

* * *

><p><strong>If I was to think of a voice for my Erik, I would say either Ramin Karimloo or John Owen-Jones. Just a little visual there. ;)<strong>

**Gonna clear a bit of PONR up here. I love the set on the stage with the table and the bench and stuff, but I also have a soft spot for Erik and Christine's move outfits, so I gave Erik and Christine those clothes because I definitely wanted Christine to know it was him and be worried about him. Also keeping the staircase from the movie too. Just like the table and bench idea like the stage show. Just clearing that up. Hope you guys like the new update. Trying to update as much as possible. You know where the button is. ;) xxx**


	7. Either Way There's No Way To Win

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 7**

The whole auditorium was quiet, waiting for Erik to begin his verse. Christine felt like she could barely breathe. There he was, the man she loved, handsome in his Don Juan costume. Her knees felt weak as she watched him, their eyes never leaving each other's. His gaze was intense as if he was trying on purpose to make her melt into a puddle at his feet. She wasn't far from it. He was moving towards her and she was so besotted by him she had barely registered that he'd started singing.

"**Past the point of no return, no backward glances, our games of make believe are at an end**," he sang to her, handing her the goblet. She looked away from him, a smile on her lips before his fingers touched her chin, bringing her glance back to him. Their eyes met once again before he touched the bottom of the goblet as if indicating she should drink from it. She pretended to drink before removing the goblet and wiping her lips, Erik catching her wrist in his hand. She tried not to wince as it was the same wrist Raoul had grabbed earlier. "**Past all thought of 'if' or 'when', no use resisting, abandon thought and let the dream descend**." Christine pulled her wrist from his grasp, smiling as she moved back to the bench, putting the goblet on the table before she sat down. Turning her body towards him, she parted her thighs just a little, enough to tease him. She could see in his eyes how much he liked it and she was definitely going to play on it a little longer. He moved closer and sat down on the bench next to her, his hand shifting gently onto her thigh, watching her. Her eyes flickered closed as his hand moved higher. "**What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies before us?"** Christine's breath caught in her throat at his voice in her ear. Her soul was on fire, more so with every word he sang. He was suddenly standing behind her, one knee on the bench next to her, his hand on her hair before his fingers trailed gently down her face, leaving little winding paths of soft fire in their wake. She let out a gasp when his fingers reached her throat and bare shoulders. She knew what those hands were like on her body and she loved it. "**Past the point of no return, the final threshold, what warm unspoken secrets will we learn beyond the point of no return?**"

Christine moved from the bench, pushing her lace straps of her dress up onto her shoulders, like she did in rehearsals. She moved away from him, to the other side of the stage and faced the audience. No matter how much she wanted to look at him she didn't dare. She felt her resolve crumbling. She was aroused and wanting him. She couldn't help herself and she took one quick look over at Erik who was leaning back, using his hands to hold him up on the bench, one foot on either side, watching her. She turned back to the audience, her hand going to her chest as she felt the breath leave her body harshly.

**"**_You have brought me to that moment when words run dry; to that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence_," she sang out, her voice sounding different. She looked down at Monsieur Reyer in the orchestra pit, who nodded to tell her to keep going. "_I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why_." She turned to look at Erik again. "_In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenceless and silent._" She brought her hands together as she sang, clasping them together as she let the lace straps of her dress fall down, baring her collarbones and shoulders for Erik to see. "_Now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I've decided_." Erik stood from the bench, his impressive build and aroused state causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She was his. This man in front of her was her own. She loved him dearly and wanted to show him how much she did. "_Decided_." Erik moved towards her slowly until they were only a foot apart. Christine looked up into his eyes before they flickered past him to Raoul's enraged face in Box Five. Surely he knew it was Erik. Her eyes moved back to her lover's face.

"I love you," he mouthed to her gently and she nodded.

"Past _the point of no return, no going back now; our passion play has now, at last begun_," she began, her hands pressing against his chest gently, leaning in as if she was going to kiss him but when he leaned in too, she moved off to the side, to the staircase on the right hand side of the stage. Erik smiled gently before moving to the left hand staircase, their eyes fixed on each other as they moved. Christine smiled at her lover, singing with all she had for him. "_Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question, how long should we two wait before we're one?_" They both moved up their staircases slowly, stopping in the middle as Christine sang to him. They were already one, she thought to herself. She did not have to wait. She began to move up the stairs further, her eyes still on his. "_When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames, at last, consume us?"_ They arrived at the top of the staircase, both stopping just to take each other in, oblivious to Raoul, the managers, the audience and the cast in the wings who were watching in confusion. Christine could barely catch her breath and, suddenly, Erik threw off his cloak and they both began to move towards each other.

"**_Past the point of no return; the final threshold, the bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn_**," they sang together, their voices beautiful together, filling the ears of every member of the audience and cast. Meeting in the middle of the bridge, Christine grabbed Erik's waist, Erik doing the same to her before taking hold of her wrists and spinning her in his arms. Christine closed her eyes as her body became encircled by Erik's strong arms, her back against his hard chest. His hand slid her own up to her bare throat, letting it linger there. "**_We've passed the point of no return_**." The entire auditorium seemed to hold its breath as Erik and Christine stood together on the bridge. Erik pressed his lips to Christine's ear through her hair.

"We will leave soon, I promise," he whispered.

"I love you, Erik," she whispered back as his fingers gently caressed her throat. Erik smiled into her hair, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing in the scent that was purely Christine.

"**Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you want me with you, here, beside you** ..." he sang gently in her ear, but loud enough that the audience would hear. His eyes darted to Raoul, who was standing in the box, anger pasted on his handsome features. Christine suddenly turned her head to look at her lover, their eyes meeting once more. He held her hands in his own. "**Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of** ..." Christine was leaning in to press her lips to his when a gunshot rang through the auditorium, screams of panic from the audience and the cast. Christine turned to the audience to see where it had come from but the moment Erik's hands let go of hers she turned back to him. He was leaning on the side of the bridge, crimson liquid gushing from the bullet hole in his left shoulder.

"Erik!" she almost screamed. Her arms went round him as Madam Giry and a few of the other cast began running up the staircases. Erik quickly looked up above him at one of the many ropes that went up to the ceiling. By chance, he pulled the knife from his boot and he cut the thickest rope there with all the strength he could muster, the clinking of the crystals of the chandelier the only indication that that was the rope he had cut. Suddenly the chandelier began to give way from the ceiling, giving Erik some time to make his move.

"Hold on to me," Erik said to Christine, who wrapped her arms around him just as his foot kicked out at a lever on the bridge, sending them both falling, falling into the abyss through a hole in the stage. But luckily for them, it wasn't too far. They hit the ground, both of them parting as they landed. Erik cried out in agony as his shoulder hit the ground as he fell onto his side. Christine was by his side in a moment, ripping parts off her dress so she wouldn't trip. Suddenly, there was a great crash above them and flames appeared above their heads. Christine turned back to Erik.

"Erik, take off your jacket ..."

"We don't have time for this. I can make it until we leave here ..."

"You are injured. I'm not having you die of an infection before we leave the Opera House," Christine said. "Please just let me dress it?" Erik took a deep breath.

"Fine, but let us get to the lair first." She nodded and helped him to his feet. He took her hand, which was crimson with his own blood, and led her through the dark corridors to the lair.

**-x-**

"Madam Giry, where did he take her?" Raoul demanded backstage. The fire was spreading through the Opera House since the chandelier had fallen and the building was being evacuated. But Raoul wasn't going to give up easily. The ballet mistress grabbed the Vicomte by the arm, pulling him to the side, Meg standing with her mother. "You did this, didn't you? You shot him?" she asked, enraged.

"I suppose I did," he said, casually.

"You are not the little boy we all once knew. This is not a game, Vicomte. I will not tell you where she is, nor will I show you. Come, Meg" she said, walking away from him.

"I think you will," he said. The sudden scream of 'Mother' had the ballet mistress turning back to see Raoul with a death grip on her daughter's hair with a pistol to her throat. "If you want to keep your precious daughter, you'll show me."

"Meg ..."

"Madam, my patience is wearing thin."

"Alright, I'll take you, but let her go."

"No, she comes with us. You take me far enough, I'll let her go." Madam Giry took a deep breath but nodded anyway.

"Very well, but please do not harm her."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

**-x-**

The lair was silent, apart from the dripping of water from somewhere on the rocky ceiling down into the water below. Christine sat on Erik's bed beside him, dabbing his wound with brandy, which was making the great Phantom of the Opera almost cry with agony. Tears shone in his eyes as the alcohol stung his wound. Luckily the blood was cleared away and Christine was now threading a needle to stitch him up.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" Erik asked, eyeing the needle.

"Yes, darling, I used to stitch up my dog when I was a child. She would get into a fight with our neighbour's dog and she'd come back a mess," she said. Erik took a deep breath as Christine put the needle to his skin. As it penetrated the skin, Erik cried out in agony, balling his other fist and stuffing it in his mouth to bite down on. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He just groaned against his fist so she took it as a sign to continue. She tried to hurry along as fast as she could without causing him too much pain. By the time she had finished, Erik was sweating and his knuckles were covered in bite marks. Christine didn't say anything as she went about bandaging him up.

"We have to leave here soon," he said. "We'll leave Paris and travel by night. Much safer."

"I just want us to be together," Christine said, cupping Erik's cheek. Erik leaned forward and captured her lips in a kiss. When she pulled back, she took the black mask from his face and handed him his white half mask but before he could put it on, she was dabbing at his face with a wet cloth, wiping the sweat from his brow and from the crevices of his distorted cheek. "There. You should be alright now." Erik smiled and placed his mask back upon his face before changing his shirt to a clean one.

"You should change before we leave," he said, nodding to her Don Juan costume. She nodded and went to the bag she had packed earlier that Erik had brought from her dressing room. Suddenly there was a gunshot echo within the passages. Erik put his fingers to his lips before he stepped out of the bedroom. No one was in the lair but they had to be nearby.

"Where are you, monster?" Raoul's voice echoed from further away. Erik moved back into the bedroom.

"We have to leave now," he said. "You can change later." Christine grabbed her bag and Erik grabbed the belongings he was taking, stuffing the black Don Juan mask in with it. He took her hand.

"Erik, I'm scared." He gave her a lingering kiss on the lips.

"Don't be scared, my love. I'm the Phantom of the Opera, remember?" he said, trying to cheer her up a little. She nodded and he pulled her from the bedroom, picking up a metal candle holder on the way into the lair again. He gave Christine his satchel to hold for a moment while he pulled back the curtain on one of the mirrors. "Stand back." Christine did as she was told and he slammed, with all his might, the candlestick into the mirror, smashing the glass. He did it again, and again, until the glass shattered completely, falling to the ground to reveal a dark passageway. Suddenly the splash of water could be heard. Raoul was getting closer. "Go on; watch your feet on the glass." Christine squeezed his hand and entered the dark passageway, pulling him in with her. Erik managed to close the curtain as Raoul's voice became clearer.

"Where are you, you bastard? You have hypnotised her someway, you must have. She would never spread her legs for you willingly," his voice called out. Erik held Christine to his body, pressing her warmth into him gently. They didn't dare move in case they made any noise. Unluckily, the portcullis was open from their boat journey into the lair so they could tell Raoul was getting close. The splashing stopped and the sound of his boots on dry land had Christine sobbing silently into his shoulder. She was shaking like a leaf, terrified of what her childhood friend would do when he found them. Kill Erik? Kidnap her? Rape her? She had no idea, but the possibilities were immense.

Out in the lair, Raoul held his gun out in front of him, just for safety. Who knew where the monster would jump out from? He moved forward, further into the lair, checking rooms for any signs. In the bedroom, a shirt covered in blood lay there on the bed, along with a small pool of blood on the floor. Raoul smirked. They had definitely been here. Exiting the bedroom, Raoul moved down the little stone staircase before noticing a mannequin that looked exactly like Christine, standing staring at him with the same wide eyes that the real Christine had.

"This is sick," he said to himself, noting the mannequin's state of undress. Where was the dress it must have been wearing before? He moved away from the mannequin, disgusted by it. Taking another glance around the lair, he moved towards the organ. There was a sudden great crunch beneath his feet, making him look to the floor, glass littering the space around him. He frowned gently, moving back gently. That was when he saw it. The curtain over one of the mirrors swaying, as if moved by a gentle wind. Cocking his gun, Raoul faced the mirror, his hand moving to grab the curtain before he yanked it off the mirror, revealing a passageway. Raoul moved forward to step into the passageway when a sudden strong force met his nose, forcing him back, making him drop the gun. He fell to the ground before looking up to see the Opera Ghost standing before him.

"This ends here, Vicomte," Erik said, moving forward, grabbing Raoul by the shirt and pulling him to his feet. Just as Erik was about to land another punch to the Vicomte's face, Raoul slammed his fist into Erik's shoulder, causing the other man to cry out in agony as he felt the stitches on his bullet would pull uncomfortably. Christine suddenly ran from her hiding place.

"Please, God have mercy, stop this, Raoul," she cried out. But Raoul didn't stop. He threw as many punches at the Opera Ghost as he could, who seemed to be weakened by the hurt in his shoulder.

"You know something, ghost? I always win," Raoul said. "Come along now, Christine. We shall be married soon enough." While Erik was down on the ground, Raoul made his way over to Christine, who immediately lashed out, slapping his face, cutting his cheek with her long nails.

"I will never marry you. Never, do you hear me?" she spat. Just as Raoul was about to grab her, Erik grabbed one of the Vicomte's legs, making the man fall and hit his head on the rock floor. Erik grabbed the insolent boy by the neck and pushed his head down under the water of the lake, causing Raoul to struggle against his grip before he was pulled up for air.

"You have been warned multiple times. Leave us be, you miserable piece of vermin. You do not deserve the ground Christine walks on, never mind Christine herself. You better ..." he said before he was spat on, saliva hitting his face. He pushed the Vicomte's head under the water once more, feeling his body struggle with the grip once more before Christine touched his shoulder.

"Please ... let us leave ..." she said. Erik nodded and let go of the Vicomte, who pulled himself up for air as quickly as he could before one more hard punch smacked him in the face and he fell unconscious, Erik massaging his knuckles. Groaning at the agony in his shoulder, Christine helped him to his feet.

"Quickly, we must hurry. We'll get a horse from the stables. We have far to travel," he said. Christine nodded.

"Let us go then." Taking her hand, Erik pulled her through the passageway, taking one quick glace back at the place he called home before pulling down the curtain once more.

A new life waited for them with, hopefully, no more Raoul de Chagny to interrupt their happiness. Calais awaited them.

* * *

><p><strong>Once more, my Erik is Ramin Karimloo or John Owen-Jones. :)<strong>

**I hope this chapter is to your liking. No unmasking I'm afraid. I wanted to save Erik the embarrassment. But there will be more ups and downs for Erik and Christine soon. Will Raoul ever leave them alone? New chapter along soon, promise. ;) xx**


	8. A New Life?

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 8**

The journey was absolute agony. Erik felt like his whole body was on fire. The horse he and Christine were currently riding was no help. At first the horse ran from the Opera House with its riders, both Erik and Christine breathing a sigh of relief to be away from the place. But the bouncing of the horse had Erik's whole body screaming out in protest, though he would not tell Christine. When the horse slowed to a walk once they were far away from the Opera House, though not near enough to their destination, Christine had fallen asleep against his chest. Though an uncomfortable position, she still looked like an angel. It had to have been the middle of the night as they had been riding for hours when Erik realised he couldn't take the pain anymore. He diverted the horse into a nearby cluster of trees that would be suitable for a hideout until they were able to move again. He would have preferred to keep riding but he realised he needed to stop, at least for a few hours.

"Erik, where are we going?" Christine's voice suddenly said, thick with sleep.

"I need to stop ..." he said and the pain in his voice was evident. Christine turned her head to him. He was bruised and he looked tired, the wound on his shoulder had been bleeding again. The sweat was pouring from him but his hands were ice cold. Christine took hold of the reins and pulled the horse to a halt, sliding down from the black stallion.

"Come, darling, you need to rest," she said. Erik managed to get off the horse but his large form was weak. Christine put his arm around her shoulders and helped him over to a nearby tree to sit down before she took hold of the horse's reins and pulled him over to tie him up. The horse rubbed its head against Christine's arm and she patted its nose. "I have to see to your master. I'll come to you soon." She moved to the horse's saddlebags, pulling out a blanket and medical supplies she and Erik had taken before they'd left. She took a quick look at her lover. He looked awful.

"Christine ..."

"I'm here, Erik. I'm coming," she said, moving over to his form and kneeling down beside him, the grass beneath her bare feet cold. As she sat next to him, Erik wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his own, embracing her. Confused slightly, Christine put her arms around him too, stroking his hair and exposed cheek gently.

"I do not deserve you, Christine Daae," he said gently.

"Shh, don't say things like that," she scolded gently. "I'm here with you, no second thoughts." Erik let a small smile grace his features. They were silent in each other's embrace for a few moments before Erik spoke again.

"Marry me, Christine?" The soprano's eyes widened, pulling back to look into his tired eyes. He reached out to push her curls behind her ear, making her smile gently.

"Erik ... I don't know what to say," she said, her cheeks turning pink.

"Say yes." Their eyes met once more before she smiled the biggest smile he had seen in a long time and embraced him once more.

"Yes," she whispered in his ear. He seemed to sigh with relief before groaning with pain. "Oh Erik, I have to see to your wounds." She pulled back from his embrace and went about seeing to his shoulder. Erik watched her through hooded lids as she worked, cleaning up the wound before adding new bandages and placing a small kiss against the gauze. Erik smiled gently. Slipping his ring from the smallest finger, he took Christine's hand in his own and slid it onto her finger, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. Christine felt a tear slip down her cheek. Despite everything with Raoul, she was happy with the man she loved and nothing was going to change that. She leaned in to kiss him, pressing her lips against his quickly before pulling back only for Erik to slip his hand to the back of her head and pull her in again. He took Christine in his arms and turned them over so her back was on the cool grass, their lips working each others. When they parted for air, Christine giggled.

"In agony, are you?" she asked, slipping her fingers through his hair.

"Kissing you, my love, is worth the agony," he said. Christine reached over to pull the blanket over to them, wrapping it around their bodies tight against the cold night air.

"Cesar," Erik said and the stallion tied up at the nearby tree raised its head. "Down." The horse lowered its head again before folding its legs underneath its body, lying down on the grass. Christine smiled once more before she pressed a kiss to her future husband's forehead.

"I love you very much, Erik. Things may not have gone to plan with the Vicomte in the way, but I would not change any moment of this," she said. Erik ran his fingers through her unruly curls.

"Neither would I," he said. "Let us sleep at least a few hours. We are better travelling while it is still dark," he said. Christine nodded and the two settled against each other, their body heat making them warm beneath their blanket. Erik took one more look at Christine's angelic face before he too closed his eyes, letting sleep overtake his tired and aching body.

**-x-**

"Monsieur le Vicomte, you need to slow down. Take a seat and I will fetch the inspector to take a statement from you."

Raoul watched the young policeman walk away only to return with a damp cloth. He held it out to the Vicomte who took it with a nod before holding it to the bleeding gash on his forehead. The chief inspector walked into the room, dismissing the young policeman, who closed the door of the office behind him.

"Dear God, monsieur le Vicomte. What in the name of God has happened to you?" Inspector Ledoux asked. Raoul took a deep breath trying to calm himself down from the last outburst before he spoke.

"It was that monster. The Opera Ghost. He has taken my fiancée. We fought but he still managed to best me and escape ..." Raoul said. "This is the last time he will take anything from me."

"Monsieur, the Opera Ghost is a myth."

"No, no, no! He's not. He is a monstrous freak; he lived in the bowels of the Opera House. His home is still there. I can take you to it if you like ..." Raoul said but the inspector shook his head.

"Monsieur, enough of this. You were no doubt in the chandelier accident and injured. You should go home and lie down," he said, standing and shaking his head.

"Inspector ..."

"Good day, monsieur le Vicomte."

**-x-**

The darkness was slowly turning to dawn as Christine and Erik neared his safe house in Calais. It had been a long journey but they were far away from any danger at the moment. Once again, Erik led Cesar into the woods, away from the streets. That was when his eyes finally fell on the house he had not been in for so long. The small wooden house was far from the glory he wanted he and Christine to own, but it would do for the time being.

"Oh Erik, what a lovely little house," Christine said as he brought Cesar up to the small stable before sliding off the animal.

"It may need a woman's touch," he said. "It has been empty for years. I found it abandoned years ago when I thought someone had discovered me in the Opera House. Since then I have not been back. I may need you to go into town to purchase some supplies. I daresay there are none here." He held Christine's waist as she slid down from the horse. "Go on in. I'll bring in our belongings." Christine nodded and moved into the house. It was dusty and dark but nothing a little cleaning couldn't fix. All surfaces and chairs had white sheets over them, no doubt in case Erik returned. But the house was cosy and they would be safe there for now. Christine moved into the little living room, pulling a sheet off a table as she moved, noting how clean it was. Erik suddenly moved into the room too, closing the front door behind him. "Do you like it?" Christine nodded.

"Very much so, my love," she said, making Erik smile gently. He'd never get tired of hearing her saying things like that to him. "It just needs a little Christine magic and it will be lovely." Erik chuckled. He moved closer, taking her in his arms.

"Perhaps now you'd like to change. That dress has seen better days," he said, noting the torn hem and the dirt clinging to parts of the skirt.

"And there was me thinking you liked me in this dress," she said, leaning back against his chest. He was right though, she thought. The dress felt like she'd been wearing it for a week. She needed to bathe.

"I do like it on you, but surely you'd like to clean up a little," he offered. She nodded. "You get the fire started and I'll go fetch some water from the lake behind the house." She turned in his arms and kissed his lips.

"Yes, darling," she said before moving to the fireplace. He watched her for a few moments, still unable to grasp the fact that she was here with him of her own free will. No second thoughts, she had said. And she was going to be his wife. His _wife_. Hopefully one day future mother to any child they may bear together. He smiled at the thought before he crept back out into the darkness to fetch water from the lake. Christine turned to see he had left the room. She stood again, moving to the kitchen area to see if she could find matches. She searched through cupboards and drawers until she found them, picking them up before noticing pieces of paper underneath, little drawings of her when she was a young girl. Had Erik harboured feelings for her for that length of time, she thought to herself.

"He said he hadn't been here in years," she said aloud before she closed the drawer again, not wanting to be caught snooping through his personal belongings but she made a mental note to ask him about them later. She moved back to the fireplace, quickly striking a match and throwing it into the kindling that was there before she threw more sticks and pieces of wood in that were piled up next to the fireplace. She got to her feet once more, deciding to take a wander around the house. She struck another match and lit a nearby candle before picking it up in its holder and moving towards the staircase. The creaking of the stairs under her feet gave the house an eerie feel but she kept going, noting three doors. She tried the handle of the first door which was a small bathroom with a metal bathtub against the wall. The mirror – or what used to be a mirror – had no glass in the frame but it was not on the floor. Someone had obviously cleaned up after them. Erik, no doubt. She closed the door over again and moved to the next door, trying the handle and opening it. The second room was a lovely little bedroom. She moved in, the candlelight shining on a bed, covered over with a white sheet like the furniture downstairs, a small desk and chair, a wardrobe and a small table by the bed. The perfect room to call their own. She pulled the white sheet from the bed, leaving the mattress bare. Smiling once more, she left the room to check out the last one. Pushing the door open, she was in what she could only describe as Erik's music room. There was a large piano in the corner, half covered with a sheet, the keys grey with dust. Dusty sheets of music lay on the stool. Once again, she knew that with a little cleaning everything would be wonderful. She suddenly gasped and almost dropped the candle when a pair of arms encircled her waist.

"I am sorry, my love. I did not mean to startle you," Erik said. "How do you like the house?"

"It's lovely," she said, smiling at her future husband.

"All of this stuff was here when I found it. I was surprised to find it so well furnished for an abandoned home." Christine turned in his arms. "I'm afraid there is only one bedroom." Christine frowned gently.

"Why is that an issue?" she asked.

"Well, I just thought you'd want to be in separate rooms until we were married. I do not mind sleeping on the couch in the living room ..." he said before Christine suddenly put her finger to his lips.

"Erik, I have lain with you in bed, bare before you and we were not even engaged. I have no issue with sleeping in the same bed as you," she said, smiling when Erik smiled gently. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"You are a devil woman," he said. "Come, I have the water heating on the fireplace for you to bathe."

"Are you going to join me?" Erik let out a loud hearty laugh.

"You are definitely going to be the death of me, Christine Daae."

* * *

><p><strong>Not as long as previous chapters but I hope you like it anyway. Just hoping to get Erik and Christine settled together in the next couple of chapters. I love the thought of domesticated Erik. But even domestic Erik will encounter a few problems along the way. More soon, promise. ;)<strong>


	9. Full of Feelings I Can't Define

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 9**

**(Warning: Smut ahead.)**

Their first full day in the little house in the woods was spent making it liveable. Christine had taken on the role of doting wife, even though they were not yet married, and began making it a pleasant home for both her future husband and herself. Erik helped as much as he could but Christine insisted she could manage. She sent Erik out and round the back of the house to fetch some wood to stock for the fire as she cleaned. Floors were scrubbed and every surface was dusted within an inch of its life, leaving Christine very pleased with herself. Erik loved to watch her go about the chores with a smile on her face, knowing that smile was because of him.

After a lovely morning spent with Erik, Christine had taken her first venture into town. Nervous though she was, no one knew her there and she did not need to hide. Erik had given her a list as well as a generous wad of money out of their, now shared, mattress ("Erik! Where did you get all that money? You have enough there to possibly buy a small chateau." "It is the money that I used to get from Monsieur Lefevre. He was more than generous. I made sure I kept it in case of a situation such as this one.") and she was on her way. She bought all essentials they would need, plus a few extra things before stopping at a small stall on the market and looking down at the newspapers that were on sale. A picture of the burning Opera House was on the front with the simple headline PARIS OPERA HOUSE BURNS. Christine picked up the newspaper and handed over a few coins before she began to make her way back to the house in the woods. As she walked, her head was reeling. Had Raoul told the police they had escaped? Would he, or anyone, be looking for them? Would they kill them when they found them? So many questions and no answers; what could she think?

"Christine?" The soprano looked up to see Erik come out the front door of the house. She was so caught up in her own thoughts she had barely registered that she was home. She smiled gently and moved into his embrace, kissing his jaw gently. "Are you well? You seemed a little dazed." Christine took a deep breath and pulled the newspaper out of her basket and handed it to him. Erik frowned slightly when he saw the picture. He moved into the house, Christine following on his heels.

"Do you miss the Opera House?" he asked, sitting down in an armchair he had called his own by the fireplace. Christine sat at his feet, putting the basket down on the ground. She rested her chin on her arms that were crossed on his knees.

"In a way I do. But also knowing that Raoul is no longer in my life, it lifts a weight from my shoulders that I didn't realise was there," she said. "I love being here with you. This is the life I chose, Erik. No going back now." Erik smiled, his fingers stroking her cheek gently.

"Good," he whispered. "Come now, let's eat. You must be famished." Christine was about to protest before her stomach gave an almighty growl.

"I guess I am hungry," she said. She removed her cloak and she began unpacking the items she had bought from her basket. She lifted her head to see Erik still sitting in his chair, looking at the paper. She knew a part of him would miss the Opera too. He had lived there since he was a child; since Madam Giry rescued him. It had been home to him and to her. She knew if it were not for the Opera House, she and Erik never would have met and she knew she'd be stuck in a loveless marriage with the Vicomte de Chagny. The mere thought made her sick to the stomach. Erik was suddenly by her side, startling her. He went to help her unpack the basket and he pulled out a neatly wrapped bundle.

"Christine ..."

"Hmm ..." she noticed the bundle in his hand and she grabbed it from him, a blush and a smile creeping onto her features.

"What is that?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, thoroughly amused. Christine bit her lip, holding the package to her chest protectively.

"It is a surprise for you. Please do not spoil it by peeking," she said, giggling. "I promise I'll give it to you later." She quickly left the room and hid the parcel beneath their bed as she heard Erik clattering with plates in the kitchen. She wanted to give Erik something back after he had so graciously taken care of her. How she loved him. She laid her cloak over the chair at the dressing table and moved downstairs beside Erik once more. Erik had laid out the table, a plate of cheese and bread for them, along with a glass of wine. Christine sat down as Erik sat opposite her. They sat in comfortable silence, finally getting some food into their stomachs.

"Erik?" Christine asked, taking a sip of her wine.

"Hmm?"

"What will happen if we decide to have children?"

Erik, very unsubtly, choked on the wine that was halfway down his throat. He tried to mask it as clearing his throat but only succeeded in making it worse. He picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth with it, his face bright red now. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. You just caught me off guard with that ... question."

"You do not want children?" Erik reached over the table to take Christine's hand in his, running the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand.

"I want everything with you, Christine Daae. I promise. I just fear that any child we bear together will take after its father in ways it should not," he said. He brought his free hand up to touch his mask gently. "I do not want any child of ours being rejected by society, just like I was. Please don't think I was going to reject the idea of parenthood." Christine smiled.

"Any child we bring into the world will be beautiful in my eyes, Erik. You are beautiful in my eyes, why won't the child be?" she asked. Erik looked genuinely touched at her words, even though he did not believe them himself. "What will happen if we do? We cannot hide out in the woods all our lives. This house is so lovely, but it is not idea for a family. If we are to be married, I can definitely see a family starting." Erik nodded. He completely agreed.

"We will cross that bridge soon. Do not worry, my love," he said, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I promise we will be safe."

**-x-**

Night fell over the little house quickly. Christine sat on her chair by the fire, pretending to be engrossed in her book that she was reading but all she could do was stare at Erik from beneath her eyelashes. He was sitting without his mask on, which Christine had begged him to do, and she found herself unable to take her eyes from him. She had completely overreacted when she had unmasked him in his lair those many months ago. His face was unpleasant to look at, but he was not hideous. The little flaws and imperfections were the reason she loved him more now than she did days before. She had to show him how much she loved him. Snapping her book closed, Erik's eyes came up from his own to look at her.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked. Christine nodded and yawned.

"Yes, darling. I'm going to go up to bed. Are you coming?" she asked. Erik pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat pocket and checked the time.

"Yes, shortly, my love. Let me finish this chapter and I will join you," he said. Christine smiled and put her book down on the table before getting up, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders tighter. Stepping over to Erik, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Don't be long." Biting her lip to hide her smile she pressed one more kiss against his deformed cheek and moved upstairs, feeling Erik's eyes on her as she moved. Moving into their bedroom, she hurried and pulled out the package from underneath the bed before she almost ran to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She changed out of her day dress, leaving herself standing in the middle of the bathroom naked. She looked over her own body, making sure she looked good. She unclipped her hair and let her curls cascade over her shoulders before picking up her scent bottle. She placed a dab of scent just behind her ears and on her wrists, not too much to let the smell overpower. Quickly opening the package, Christine pulled out a silk nightdress and slid the delicate fabric over her head, letting the material caress her skin. The neckline plunged more than she was used to. She had never bought anything so risqué before but Erik brought out the lioness within. The large slit in the side bared more of her thigh than she was used to but Erik had already seen her body so it did not worry her. Gathering her dress she had taken off and the packaging from the nightgown, she made her way back to the bedroom, quickly putting her dress away and lighting the candles next to the bed. Suddenly Erik's footsteps were heard on the wooden stairs. Quickly lying on her side on the bed, she adjusted herself, arranging the slit at her thigh so it was showing. Propping her head up on her hand she was finally comfortable. Her heart hammered in her chest as his footsteps got nearer and nearer until they were right outside the room. Taking a deep breath, the door slowly creaked open and Erik moved into the room, carrying a candle and his mask back on his face. He closed the door before he turned and finally looked at Christine. The expression on his face was unreadable but she knew that he liked it. Christine bit her lip as he stood there, taking in every inch of her body.

"Christine ..." he managed to say, the lust in his voice noticeable. Christine beckoned him forward, which he obliged, and took the candle from him, placing it on the bedside table. She got up on her knees, placing her hands on his chest.

"I'm never like this, you know. I'm never forward, making the first move. I've never worn anything like this in my life, never _owned_ anything like this in my life," she said. "But I love you, Erik, and I want you to make love to me right now." Christine could see Erik's Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard. He brought up one hand, cupping her chin in his hand, his thumb stroking her jaw line gently.

"You have completely bewitched me, body and soul, Christine. I am yours forever. Never leave me?" he whispered. Christine took his hand and pressed kisses to his fingers.

"Never," she whispered back. Her small hands curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Their eyes were fixed on each other's so intently that it felt like no one else in the world existed. They leaned into each other in a way that almost seemed like slow motion. Reaching up, Christine ran the pad of his thumb across Erik's bottom lip. His eyes fluttered closed quickly, his breath quickening at their closeness. Suddenly her fingers were gone from his lips and, before he could even open his eyes, they were replaced with her own soft, sweet lips. Erik let out a huff of breath against her lips as his mouth suddenly opened against hers, moving against hers slowly, gently. Christine knew how much she had enjoyed it in the past, kissing Erik, having him make love to her for hours, yet she felt that he was hesitant, that it felt like their first time all over again. Erik seemed at a loss. He knew not where to put his hands, he felt overheated and his kiss was too gentle. She remembered the past, Erik letting out the beast within, taking her in his bed with an animalistic passion, up against the mirror in her dressing room with a reckless abandon. That was what she wanted. Her body needed it, craved it. She pulled back from the kiss and they looked into each other's eyes once more.

"Christine ..." he whispered again after what seemed like an eternity of silence. Christine bit her lip as her hands found his, gripping them in her own as she brought them to her body, laying them gently on her breasts. Erik looked down at his hands, the thin silk the only barrier between skin on skin. Erik gasped once more as Christine pushed her chest forward, arching her breasts right into his palms. Erik seemed fascinated with them, his hands curling around the firm flesh, cupping them as the pads of his thumbs found the nipples and stroked gently, emitting a sigh from Christine's throat. The soprano's hands gripped Erik's shirt tightly, moving backwards on the bed and pulling her masked lover with her. She lowered herself down onto her back, spreading her thighs as Erik crawled on top of her, resting between them. He leaned down and captured her lips once more, his hands finally finding something to do, one sliding down and into the slit in his nightgown, cupping her thigh before hoisting her leg up around his waist before grinding his hips down against hers, causing a guttural moan to emerge from the depths of the soprano. His lips pressed one more kiss to hers before his kisses moved southward, down into the plunging neckline of her nightgown.

"_At the touch of your hand_ ..." Christine sang, causing Erik's grip on her thigh to tighten and a growl to escape his throat. " ... _at the sound of your voice, at the moment your eyes meet mine_._" _Erik got up on his knees, looking down at Christine, whose face was flushed and glowing, and he began to undo his shirt before it was on the floor. _"I am out of my mind, I am out of control, full of feelings I can't define."_

"Christine, you don't know what you do to me with your voice," he said, leaning down over her again, his fingers sliding the thin straps of her nightgown down over her shoulders. Christine sat up to make the job easier for him. But he suddenly moved position, sliding behind her on the bed and pushing her curls out the way to gain access to the creamy skin of her neck. Christine tilted her head to give him better access, arching her back when he slid a hand around her stomach and down over the beautiful silk to hitch the material up to her waist, baring her bottom half completely.

"Erik ... please," Christine whispered, her head back against his shoulder as he assaulted her shoulder with his sinful kisses and bites. Her hand came up to rest against his masked cheek. "Touch me."

"Sing for me ..." he begged, just like he had done the first time they had made love in her dressing room. One hand held her nightgown at her waist as she got more comfortable on her knees and the other one dipped lower, finding her wet and warm, just for him. Her breath hitched in her throat as he teased her folds, sliding his fingers back and forth before sliding one completely inside. "Sing," he growled. "Now."

"_At ... at the touch ... touch of_ ... Erik, I can't," she moaned as he added a second finger which slid inside as easily as the first.

"Christine, you feel wonderful ..." Erik whispered in her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and biting gently. He could feel her body trembling against his own. He looked down at his own hand, watching with fascination as her hips pushed down to meet his fingers on every thrust. Her head fell forward as she squeezed her eyes closed, the feeling inside of her building up. She gripped Erik's pant legs with her hands, almost afraid she'd rip the material. He began to move his fingers faster within her, making her stomach muscles contract painfully as she felt the inevitable approaching. Suddenly, he hit a magical spot inside of her and she threw her head back into his shoulder and screamed out loud as her body tightened around his fingers and released, causing her body to spasm and convulse before she sagged against his chest, breathing heavily. Erik held her against him, letting her breathing return to normal. He let go of her nightgown, letting the material fall down to cover her modesty once more. But suddenly she was turning in his arms, her curls framing her face wildly. She looked almost animalistic and Erik felt the hard flesh between his legs twitch. She pushed him back to sit against the pillows, straddling his waist. She had become a brazen little vixen and he found he enjoyed the bold Christine with the predatory sexual urges. Christine watched him for a moment before her fingers found the hem of her nightgown and pulled the whole thing up and over her head, leaving her bare before her future husband. His hands were immediately on her body, cupping her firm breasts in his hands and massaging them gently, watching his fiancée as her head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. Erik quickly toed off his boots and Christine reached back to yank off his socks before she was in his arms again, sitting directly over the top of his erection. But she knew this, of course she did. She reached forward to cup his face in her hands before her lips met his own, lazily kissing him as his arms slid around her bare back, pulling her into his chest. That was when she started to rock against his hard flesh, circling her curvaceous hips over his erection, making him groan and pant against her lips. It was heaven; her body against his. The material of his pants against her most secret area felt wonderful and had every thrust against him causing her complete pleasure. Erik's hands slid round to her rear, gripping the flesh hard and using it as leverage to push her harder against his straining erection.

"Erik ..."

"Yes?" he asked, breathlessly. Christine leaned forward to her ear, kissing the lobe gently.

"I want you inside me now," she whispered. Erik opened his eyes once more and watched her as she slid back along his thighs to access the button on his pants. Yanking it open with shaking hands, she freed his straining erection, a sigh of relief coming from Erik. She took hold of him, sliding her hand up and down the hot flesh. She watched her hand as it moved, fascinated by how the flesh in her hand twitched with each movement and how much pleasure it caused Erik, who had his head back against the headboard from his sitting position with his eyes closed. Christine watched him for a moment then looked back down at her hand. She slid back along his thighs a little more, her hand still stroking him before she replaced that hand with her lips, the sudden jerk of Erik's hips making her smile gently as she slid her lips further down. Erik's eyes were now open and the sight of Christine's lips around his engorged flesh was certainly something. But he had to stop her or he'd finish too soon.

"Christine ..." he said, running his fingers into her curls. But the words died in his throat as she began to bob up and down on his length, taking as much as she could past those sinful lips. "Christine ... stop, please." Christine let go with an obscene sounding pop and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry ... was I wrong to do that?" she asked, her face flushing red. Erik cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips gently.

"No, don't ever think that. But if you keep doing that right now, I wouldn't last," he said. He moved to push his pants the rest of the way down, Christine dismounting him to help before sitting astride him once more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, Erik holding his erection against her entrance, and she sank down onto him. It had been far too long since they'd done this and Christine knew that she was with Erik for the rest of her life, for better or for worse. Christine slipped the mask from his face as she got used to his size within her body and ran her fingers over the grooves and crevices before smiling gently at him.

"I love you," she said, her hands running down his chest. His eyes closed and his head fell back once more against the headboard.

"**At the touch of your hand; at the sound of your voice; at the moment your eyes meet mine ..."** he sang gently into her ear, reminiscing their first time together. "**I am losing my mind; I am losing control, fighting feelings I can't define."** Christine kissed him again as he suddenly rolled them over, his warm body pressed against hers. She giggled as they rolled over the bed, almost off the edge. Erik chuckled before he began to slowly move within her body. Christine began to pant, little mewls of pleasure slipping past her lips. Their bodies moved together in perfect sync, Christine pulling Erik as close to her as she could. His kisses were like fire upon her lips and she found she could not get enough as he began pushing into her body harder and faster, his grip on her hips bruising.

"Erik ... oh god, Erik ..." she moaned, pushing her hips up to meet his. Any other words she may have wanted to say died in her throat then as she watched Erik let go, releasing hard, his whole body trembling. One hand shot out to hold him up, his arm shaking, ready to give in as he moved through his release. Christine felt her whole body follow, clamping her thighs around Erik, her nails digging into his back as she let go. Both of their bodies seemed to sag, gently falling down into the comfort of the mattress, Erik removing himself from her body. Both Erik and Christine lay on their backs, trying to catch their breath, staring at the ceiling. Turning her head to look at her lover, she smiled, noticing he had already fallen asleep, his chest still rising and falling rapidly still. Christine got up out of bed and moved across the room, picking up Erik's shirt on the way and pulling it on. She blew out the candle that sat on the desk before moving back to bed, sliding in beside Erik once more, whose arm automatically wrapped around her. She smiled once more, leaning over him to blow out the candle that was beside the bed before pulling the sheets up over their bodies. Pressing a small kiss to his lips, she settled down beside him to sleep.

As they slept in peace, they were unaware of the hooded rider who had been watching the house for the night finally gallop away towards town.

As if he had never been there.

* * *

><p><strong>I apologise for the shameless smut. NOT. Haha. But I do apologise at how detailed it is. I don't always intend to go into such detail but I find I can't help it. Haha. Hope you like. More ahead for Erik and Christine soon. I promise. :) Read and reviews are always welcome. :) x<strong>


	10. A Darker Dream

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 10**

_Two months later_

Two blissful months passed in the little house in the woods but Christine found, in the recent weeks, she had become ill. Many mornings were spent spilling the contents of her stomach in the bathroom. She tried to keep her worries from Erik, knowing that he would fear the worst. Christine left the bathroom and slipped quietly back into the bedroom, her throat feeling raw from bringing up last night's supper. Christine tiptoed back to the bed, dropping her shawl down onto a chair before sliding under the sheets once more; trying not to disturb Erik's sleeping form.

"You are ill again," Erik's voice suddenly said, gently. Christine tensed up. How long had he known?

"Again?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Every morning, this past week, you have been ill. I have impeccable hearing, Miss Daae," he said, opening his eyes. Christine's eyes met them, feeling as though he was staring into her very soul. She quickly looked away again and sat up in bed.

"I didn't want to worry you," she whispered, playing with a stray thread on the sheets. "I don't know what is wrong with me." She got out of bed, grabbing her shawl once more and wrapping round her shoulders before moving to look out the window. Erik grabbed his mask from the bedside table, slipping it on before he got out of bed too, pulling on his shirt.

"It may be serious, sweetheart. You should see a doctor," he said, moving to Christine and running his hands down her arms, pressing a kiss below her ear. "I just need to know that you are well. I'd rather die than something happen to you." Christine shrugged off his hands.

"Please, I beg you, stop fussing. I don't need you to be fussing over me. We are already on the run, in hiding, I don't need to be a burden for you," she said before a sudden wave of nausea came over her and she pushed Erik out of the way in her rush to get to the bathroom. Erik rushed after her, only to have the door slammed in his face before he could catch up to her.

"Christine, please, are you alright?" he asked, rapping on the door with a knuckle. Suddenly an idea came to his head, a notion he had not had until now. It was a possibility, a definite possibility. "Christine?" There were a few moments of silence before the door clicked open and a pale looking Christine stood there, beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Oh Erik, I can't take this anymore. I feel awful," she said, almost falling into his arms. Erik held her close, kissing her hair.

"Christine, you could ..." he began before stopping himself. His fiancée looked up at him, a confused look on her face.

"Erik?"

"Christine, you could be with child. Did that occur to you?" he asked, softly, his fingers stroking her curls gently. "I have read enough books in my time to know the symptoms. You have had many mornings of illness and that is common for pregnant women. But until we can get you a doctor, we won't know for sure." Christine laid her head against his chest, her hand suddenly against her abdomen. What if there was another life within her? A life she and Erik had created together? A small smile crept onto her lips. How wonderful it would be. Of course she shared Erik's fear of any child they created together being disfigured like its father but she knew that she'd love it no matter what. Erik's arms tightening around her made her look up. "You've gone quiet, my love. Are you well?"

"I am now," she said gently. Placing a kiss on his chin, she removed herself from his arms and moved back into their bedroom, moving to the wardrobe to retrieve a dress. Suddenly a banging on the door downstairs made both occupants freeze, their eyes locking. Christine felt the fear build up inside. "Erik, who knows we are here?" Erik shook his head.

"No one, I am certain," he said quietly. Erik moved downstairs quickly and almost silently. It was still early and the sun was only peaking over the trees, leaving the woods slightly darker. Erik opened a drawer nearby, pulling out a knife. He slid over to the door, sliding in to the darkness before reaching out for the handle and turning it slowly, letting the intruder in. The sound of heavy boots on the wood floor let Erik know it was a man. Erik suddenly slammed the door behind the intruder, who whirled round only to be pushed up against the wall, the sharp tip of a dagger against his throat. "I swear ..." Erik whispered. "I will kill you where you stand. Show yourself." The intruder lifted shaky hands to pull of the hood, only to reveal the face of a man he had known for almost a lifetime it seemed.

"Nice to see you too, Erik," the man said. Erik gritted his teeth and he pushed the man into the lounge area.

"You imbecile, Nadir. I could have killed you," Erik said. "What in the name of God are you doing here?"

"Erik?" Christine's voice came from the staircase. Both men turned to see her standing there, looking slightly confused by the other man's presence. Erik looked back at Nadir before he moved over to Christine, taking her hand. Nadir's facial expression turned from surprise to disappointment.

"Christine, this is an old friend of mine, Nadir Khan. Nadir, Christine Daae," Erik said, watching Nadir carefully. Nadir held out his hand for Christine's, who took it and smiled when the olive skinned man pressed a kiss to the back of it.

"A pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle," he said. Erik pulled Christine close to his side.

"You have not explained your presence here, Nadir. We are supposed to be in hiding. Did you not receive my letter?" Erik snapped. Nadir nodded.

"I did indeed, my friend. I have been keeping watch on the house these past few weeks to ensure your safety. But Raoul de Chagny will not stop until he has found you. Daily, he gets closer to finding you and I needed to alert you that he has been in the woods these past few days and is closing in on your location," Nadir said. "But in your letter, you had not stated that you had taken his fiancée, only that he was after you." Erik's eyes narrowed at his friend.

"Have care how you speak, Persian. Christine is here of her own free will," he said, Christine moving closer to his side as she listened to the two men. Erik looked down at Christine and smiled gently. "She loves me." He pressed a small kiss to her forehead.

"What Erik says is true, monsieur," Christine said, her voice small in the presence of these men. "Erik has been nothing but a rock for me, my angel of music. I love him dearly." She laid a hand over his heart gently.

"Am I right in thinking that is not the Vicomte's ring still upon your finger, mademoiselle?" Nadir asked gently, spotting the familiar ring on her wedding finger.

"You are indeed, monsieur," she said, smiling up at Erik once more. "I am going to change. I won't be long, darling." Christine kissed Erik gently on the lips before she made her way upstairs, Erik almost reluctant to let her go. Both men waited until the bedroom door closed before they looked each other in the eye.

"Erik you are mad having her here. De Chagny will stop at nothing until you are dead," Nadir said. Erik moved past Nadir to the kitchen area, grabbing two glasses and some brandy he had Christine get from town. Nadir watching him curiously before Erik poured the two glasses and turned back to his friend.

"Sit," Erik instructed and Nadir obeyed. Handing Nadir a glass, Erik sat down in his armchair across from the Persian. He took a gulp of brandy before he looked at his friend once more. "Nadir, we have been friends for a long time; you helped me in my times of need and I helped you in yours. You know I will not give Christine up without a fight. De Chagny can come for me and I'll be ready."

"And Christine? Surely you'd want to protect your soon-to-be wife?" he said. "Has she given herself to you, Erik?" Erik watched his friend for a moment before lifting the brandy glass to his lips, smiling into the glass before he took a drink. "Erik?"

"Yes, she has. No one has ever loved me the way she has," Erik told him.

"Then you have to leave here. I told you, he gets closer every day. He'll be here before you know it and you will be killed and Christine taken from you. There is a ship in the docks, leaving tomorrow morning; it's going to America. Be on it, Erik. For Christine's sake," Nadir said. He drained his glass of brandy in one. "And for your own. Please, my friend. Do not lose her to him. You can both start a new life, have a family." Erik looked up from his glass to his friend.

"I've never had a proper family before," he said, his voice a mere whisper. Nadir placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Then here is your chance. Keep her out of danger," Nadir said. He put his glass down on the table by the armchair and he stood, tightening his cloak around him. "I must go. I haven't been watching for a while. I'll be your eyes Erik as long as you promise me you'll think about what I said. Promise me?" Erik stood too and looked his friend in the eye.

"I give you my word, Persian," he said with a small smile. He held out his hand to shake Nadir's, who took it with a smile of his own.

"I shall see you soon, Erik," he said and turned when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Christine entered the room smiling at the two men.

"Monsieur, are you leaving?" she asked. Nadir nodded.

"That I must, mademoiselle," he said, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. "We will see each other again, I'm sure of it. Good day, my friends." And with that, Nadir was gone. Christine looked up at Erik, who was staring at the door Nadir had left through before he sat down in his armchair. Christine turned to him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Erik ..."

"Not now, Christine," he said gently. Christine sighed gently and moved upstairs once more, Erik watching her as she went. Would he lose her to Raoul? He would fight until his last breath to keep her safe and marry her, the love of his life. "Christine?" The soprano turned back to him, her eyes hopeful.

"Yes?"

"We're not safe here."

**-x-**

Erik couldn't sleep. The quiet around him unnerved him for the first time in his life. The only sign of life around him was Christine's steady breathing in the crook of his neck. He had told her what Nadir had told him, watching the emotions play over her beautiful face. He apologised for putting her in danger, apologised for his existence which had earned him some well deserved verbal abuse. They'd cried in each other's arms before Christine went off to think everything through. When night fell over the little wooden house, Erik went to Christine and made love to her, the most gentle he had ever been with her. Tears were shed once more, both realising how much danger they were in as they loved each other completely. Now, Erik lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He looked at Christine and kissed her forehead before he slid out of the sheets, pulling on his clothes. They were going to leave tonight, by the cover of darkness. Erik grabbed his satchel and began throwing both their clothes into it, picking up his mask in the process and placing it on his face.

"Erik?"

Erik stopped what he was doing and turned to Christine. She was sitting up in bed in her post coital state, hair messy, sheets wrapped around her chest, watching him curiously.

"Are you leaving me?"

Those words almost pierced Erik's heart. How could he leave her? He moved to her side, sitting down on her side of the bed. He cupped her cheek in his palm, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. He shook his head gently.

"How can you even ask such a question?" he whispered, before pressing a passionate kiss to her lips. Her hands gripped his shirt collar, pulling him as close as possible. "I'm not going anywhere," he added as he pulled away. "But _we _are going to catch that boat. I will not let Raoul take you from me so we are going to leave. Come on, let's get you dressed." He stood up, letting Christine get out of bed. He went back to packing as much as he could while she dressed, both as silent as the other. Standing from his packing, Erik turned to Christine, taking her wrist gently in his hand and he pulled her into his embrace. Christine inhaled sharply, taking in as much as his scent as possible.

"We will be safe in America, my love," Erik said gently. "Now come, let us leave." Slipping her hand into his, they both left the comfort of their first shared bedroom together before moving down into the living room and kitchen. Both proceeded to gather together some food, readying them for the boat journey ahead. Erik could sense Christine's nervousness, could see it in her body language. Taking the loaf of bread she had picked up from her hand, he linked his fingers with hers, bringing up the other hand to stroke his fingers across her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed, savouring his touch as if it would be the last time he touched her.

"Christine ..." he whispered gently, before their lips met in a gentle kiss, savouring the taste of each other as if they would slip away from each other at that moment.

"I think I may vomit," came a voice from the armchair by the fireplace. Erik and Christine pulled apart to turn to the source of the voice. There, sitting in Christine's armchair by the fire and pointing a pistol in their direction, was Raoul de Chagny. Neither of them had noticed he was there, all too preoccupied with leaving. He could have shot one, or both, of them in the time he had been there.

"Raoul ..." Christine whispered. "Please, why are you doing this?" Raoul sighed dramatically.

"Well, Miss Daae. I asked you to marry me and you left me for a monster. That doesn't sit well with me," he said. "You thought you could get away from me but, you see, I followed a friend of the monster's here just last night. My men interrogated him once I found out where you were hiding. He's lying bloody and unconscious somewhere in the woods." He laughed; a sinister sound. "I know not where." Both Erik and Christine kept their eyes fixed on the gun in Raoul's hand. Erik gripped Christine's upper arms, keeping her back against his chest.

"Whatever you want, Vicomte, it's with me, not Christine. Let her go," Erik said, suddenly stepping in front of his fiancée. Raoul cocked his head to the side slightly, a confused yet smug look on his face.

"Let her go? Oh no, sir, she will not be going anywhere, not at this moment anyway. When I have my way, and I will, she will be back at the de Chagny manor with me and you will be dead and floating down the little river and into the ocean, never to be seen again," Raoul said, standing from his chair, gun still trained on both of them.

"For God's sake, Raoul, please don't do this," Christine yelled. "Why can't things be like they used to?" Christine moved from behind Erik, who was shifting uneasily from foot to foot, and moved closer to Raoul. "Why can't we be like we were at the house by the sea? Friends? Best friends? You cannot force me to love you, Raoul. It doesn't work like that. I love Erik and if you are the same person you were all those years ago, you'll respect my decision." Raoul suddenly looked torn, trying to face the fact that Christine didn't love him. Christine took a chance and stepped closer to Raoul, who watched her for a moment. "Please Raoul; I do love you deeply, just not the way you want me to. I'm so sorry." She stood within touching distance of him, reaching out to touch his forearm. Raoul looked down at her small hand before he pulled away from her.

"You had your chance, Miss Daae, and you ruined it," he sneered before raising his gun arm and pointing the pistol at Erik.

"No, Raoul ..." Christine cried before grabbing his wrist, pushing the gun away, wrestling with her former lover. Erik could only watch in horror, frozen to the spot. Raoul suddenly pushed Christine to the floor, before turning his gun back to Erik. Christine looked up at her masked lover, who closed his eyes, awaiting the blow of a bullet to his body.

BANG!

Christine screamed loudly.

A body hit the floor.

Silence.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm back. Have you missed me? Been a long time, huh? Hope you enjoyed this. More soon, promise! :) xx<strong>


	11. Does She Risk It and Stay?

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 11**

The silence was deafening.

He was in Hell. He had to be. He'd been shot dead. He had to have been. Darkness was all he could see until his eyes fluttered open to realise that he was still standing where he had been, Christine on the floor next to Raoul de Chagny, who was writhing in pain at the bullet wound in his left thigh. Thick cascades of blood oozed out from between his fingers as he whimpered helplessly. Erik let go of the breath he didn't know he had been holding. Finally finding the strength to move, Erik hurried to Christine's side, helping her up from the floor before turning to see their saviour. Nadir Khan stood there, smoking pistol still in hand, breathing heavily. He was bleeding from a gash on his head and he was caked in dirt.

"It is only a flesh wound, heathen. Enough of your girlish whimpering," Nadir scolded, narrowing his dark eyes dangerously at the Vicomte. He turned his attention to his friend. "You have to go, now." Erik nodded.

"You are hurt, monsieur," Christine said, gently, reaching to touch the area of Nadir's head wound but Nadir stopped her.

"I will heal, quicker than he will," he said, pointing to Raoul who could barely say anything, only whimper. "Go, now. I will follow soon enough and find you." Erik reached out, speaking for the first time in a while, and touched his friend's shoulder.

"I will never forget this, Nadir," he said gently. Nadir laid his hand gently on his friend's forearm.

"Go, I will follow," he said, turning back to Raoul. "I'll deal with this one." Erik nodded and turned to Christine. He slid his hand into hers and with one quick look at the bleeding Vicomte, both fled from the little house in the woods. Erik pulled Christine to the stables, thinking about nothing more than the new life they would make together in America. Pulling out Cesar and a saddle, Erik began to quickly prepare the horse for their travelling. Turning back to Christine, he noticed her looking back at the little house.

"Christine?"

"Will Nadir kill Raoul?" she asked, causing Erik to frown.

"Christine, Raoul will live. Nadir would not kill anyone out of cold blood. Nadir is a good man," he said. "Would you prefer him to so that we are safe from Raoul?" Christine's head snapped around, her eyes locking with Erik's.

"Do not say such things, Erik. Raoul was still my friend all those years ago," she said. Erik narrowed his eyes, stalking towards her in a manner that made her whole body quake with fear, the fear she had when she first discovered him as the Phantom of the Opera.

"Shall we invite him along on our merry little trip then, Christine? Have him be our family? Have him as 'dear Uncle Raoul' to our future children?" he seethed. "Are you having second thoughts about this, Miss Daae? I would rather you tell me now rather than allow me to leave with a broken heart later in our lives."

"How dare you say that to me? How dare you make it sound like I do not want to be with you? I gave up what I had in the Opera House because this ... this is what I wanted. You. A family with you. I want to love you with my whole heart, Erik, but you make it so difficult sometimes," she said, having grabbed the front of his shirt as she yelled at him. "How dare you?"

"How dare I?" Erik said quietly, looking down at his feet. "Of course it is my fault." He turned back to saddling Cesar, who seemed to have turned his head away from the sound of their fighting. Christine grabbed his arm, whirling him back round to look at her with surprising strength before grabbing the front of his shirt again.

"You don't understand. I love you so much, it hurts me. There is so much love inside me for you waiting to burst free. And inside me, there is only a tiny speck of love for Raoul, that speck that made him my friend all those years ago. I do not want Raoul, I assure you, but you have to let me worry about him at some point because he was my friend," Christine said. Erik sighed gently and nodded at his future wife before pulling her to his chest.

"I am sorry, forgive me?" he asked. "There is always a part of my that is jealous of him after that night he came to your dressing room, the night I revealed myself to you. He was there, handsome as they come, and there was me, distorted and wearing a mask. I never thought the outcome would be this way. I had imagined staying down in that lair all of my life, dying down there, and you, marrying the Vicomte and having the most beautiful children with him."

"I want that with you," she told him. Erik pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I understand that now," he said. He moved his lips from her forehead down to her own lips pressing a quick kiss there. His hands then went to her waist, lifting her up onto Cesar's back before attaching their satchel to the side of the saddle. He then lifted himself up behind Christine, one arm sliding protectively around her waist, pressing another quick kiss to the side of her neck. "Let us go. We can still catch that boat." Suddenly Nadir appeared from the house, hands and front of his shirt covered in blood.

"Monsieur?" Christine asked, a frown on her brow.

"I have simply given him something to knock him out for a few hours. The bullet did not go right through his leg so I have removed it and bandaged him. When he wakes, you two will be halfway to America. I shall follow on the next boat in a week's time. I want to stay and make sure everything is fine here before I follow," Nadir said. "You two better hurry yourselves." He quickly dug into his own satchel. "You won't get far without these." He handed them two tickets for passage to America. "I hear Coney Island is the place to be."

"Once more, Nadir, how can I thank you?" Erik said.

"No need. I will see you in a few weeks, yes? Safe journey, my friends," he said, before slapping Cesar's backside, causing the horse to take off at great speed. Christine held on for dear life as he horse ran as if his life depended on it. This was it. They were leaving Paris, leaving Calais for a new life in America. Christine took a deep breath and gripped Erik's hand that was around her waist. He must have felt it as his arm tightened around her. Soon there would be no interruptions. Nothing could disturb their life now.

So they hoped.

**-x-**

The docks were empty as it was almost time for the boat to depart. Erik was saying goodbye to Cesar, unable to take him with him. Patting the horse's snout, he unhooked his satchel from the side before he sent the horse on his way, his one companion since he was a young man. He watched as the horse galloped away, unshed tears in his eyes He felt Christine take his hand and he turned to her.

"Last chance; is this what you want?" Erik asked, taking her in his arms.

"Yes, it is. Come on," she said. She took his hand and she pulled him towards the boat.

"Hold it right there!"

Both Erik and Christine turned around to see at least seven gendarmes standing facing them, guns trained on them. Christine stood in front of Erik, her arms out at each side to block him from the guns should they fire.

"If you kill Erik, you kill me too," Christine said. Erik gasped from behind her and tried to get past her but she would not allow it.

"Christine, you can't ..."

"Damn it, Erik. I will not see you die because Raoul has a petty feud with us," she said, turning back to the police. "Please, he has done nothing wrong. I beg you to let us go."

"Our orders come from the Vicomte de Chagny," the one policeman on horseback said. "Our orders are to kill the opera ghost and bring you back to him. We are ordered not to harm you, Miss Daae." Christine stepped forward one step.

"Raoul let us go," she lied to them, the tears welling up in her eyes. If there was any time to be an actress, now was the time. "He came to find us at the house in the woods. We reasoned with him and he let us go. Look, he even gave us the tickets to get on the boat. He told us that we were to go now or he would come after us again. So we left. Please Messieurs, Erik has done nothing. We are just two people in love."

"But his face ..."

"He was born with it. It is not his fault. Please, let us go ..." Christine begged. "I will get down on my knees and beg you. I am with child and it needs its father." She knew that the best time to use that excuse was now. Neither of them knew if it was true or not yet, but Christine knew even these men had hearts and would not separate an unborn infant from its father. Christine got down onto her knees, Erik's eyes kept on the police. "Please."

"Hold your fire," said the policeman on horseback. Both Erik and Christine sighed with relief as Christine turned into Erik's arms, pulling him close.

"Thank you," Erik breathed to the gendarmes.

"We are not doing it for you, phantom. We are doing it for the child," the policeman said. "Move out." The gendarmes lowered their guns and turned to head back to Paris. Christine and Erik held their breaths for a few moments before they were kissing furiously, happy they had escaped certain death.

"You wonderful woman. God, I love you so much," he said. The sudden blast of the boat's horn made them jump apart. "Come on, let us board." He took Christine's hand and they both ran down the docks, quickly showing their tickets and jumped onto the boat just as it was pulling away from the dock. They had done it. They had escaped sudden death from gunshot wounds, from police, from Raoul de Chagny. They had escaped Paris, on their way to a new life.

A new life together.

* * *

><p><strong>Nothing too confrontational in this one. Wanted them to get away. Hope you enjoyed. Short chapter I know, but I'll make it up to you. :) xxx<strong>


	12. It's a Crime and a Shame

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 12**

_(**A/N:** Erik's memories are based on Susan Kay's book. Just to clear that up)_

Erik could now tell anyone who asked him why he had stayed in Paris all his life.

Seasickness.

He had spent the last two days in the cabin with Christine, his stomach in knots trying to hold down pints of vomit threatening to spill from his lips. Christine wasn't much better but with them still not knowing if they were to be parents; neither of them knew if it was a baby or seasickness. Erik hoped it was the former. They had barely spoken to each other since the boat journey began, both of them too exhausted from vomiting and both still a little edgy about what happened with Raoul at the little house in the woods. Erik would watch her, wanting to say something, afraid she'd get mad. Christine would do the same, knowing how bad Erik's temper could get if he didn't want to talk about something. Suddenly he felt the soft skin of her hand on his own, taking his hand in hers and stroking the back with her thumb. She shuffled closer to him on the bed, putting her head down on his shoulder.

"Talk to me," she whispered, closing her eyes slowly.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked. Christine lifted her head again to look at him, her eyes tired.

"Well, we are to be married, yes?" she asked. Erik nodded slowly. "I realise now that I know almost nothing about your life, only that you are a musician and that your face was distorted at birth. You have told me nothing else about your life." Christine saw Erik's nostrils flare a little as he tried to control his breathing.

"That is because nothing of my childhood, my life, is worth talking about, not to anyone," Erik said, his voice raised a little. Christine frowned at the attitude in his voice, before she let go of his hand and she stood from the little bed. Erik watched her as she started pacing up and down the small cabin. "Christine, I did not mean that ..."

"No, it is perfectly fine. But tell me, Erik. What do I do when people ask how I met you? Tell them you _kidnapped_ me through a mirror in my dressing room?"

"Kidnapped? Christine ..."

"Do I lie when they ask me about where you came from? I know nothing of your life, Erik, and I wish you would open up and share things with me. I am to be your wife. We are meant to love and cherish each other for our whole lives and you cannot even open up to your soon-to-be wife and tell her about you," she said. Erik just stared at her. He had never heard her so annoyed. Part of him wanted to open up and tell her everything, about the abuse he had had in his early life. But the other part wanted him to keep his mouth closed and not say _anything_, knowing that bringing the memories back to the surface would be painful. Erik sat up on the little bed, his elbows resting on his knees. He removed the mask from his face and he stared down at it in his hands.

"You must understand, Christine," Erik said, his voice suddenly soft and gentle. "My past was not that of a normal child. My mother hated me, like I was the very spawn of Satan himself. I will tell you some of my past but not all. The rest will be saved for later in life. I do not want to burden you with everything that is wrong with my life." Christine nodded gently, even though he was still staring at his mask and wouldn't have noticed. She knelt down between his knees, covering his hands with her own.

"You can tell me as much or as little as you like. I just want to know the man I am to marry," she said. Erik smiled gently.

"Well, my childhood as not a pleasant one."

**-x-**

_"Erik, put that down at once, child," came his mother's voice from the doorway. Erik quickly put down the small mirror on his mother's dressing table. He had yet to find out why every mirror in the house was out of use for him. _

_"Why must all the mirrors be covered, Mama, and why can I not look in them?" he asked her, his mother turning to look at him sharply._

_"Erik, I have told you not to ask such questions. Why do you need to know these things, you insolent child?" Madeleine shouted, making Erik's eyes brim with tears. He did not know what he had done to upset his mother so. Ever since he could walk and talk, his mother had no time for him. He spent most of his time locked up in his room, tinkering away on the piano his mother had allowed him. Even at the age of six, he had pretty much perfected most of the music in his mother's home. "Erik, clean up for dinner. It will be ready soon. And put your other mask on." Erik took a deep breath. The mask. The thing he hated more than being locked in his room. He had no idea why he had to wear the thing. Taking his current mask from his face, he looked down at it. Why, he asked himself. He heard his mother now rustling around in the kitchen so he ran quickly to his room and he put his mask upon his piano. Picking up the other mask, he looked down at it too. No, the thought to himself, he would not wear it. Putting it back down, he moved downstairs beside his mother, who did not notice him enter the kitchen._

_"Do you want me to help, mother?" Erik asked from behind her. Madeleine turned to her son, ready to answer him, when she received such a startle she dropped the plates from her hands. That face. "Mother?"_

_"Erik, how dare you disobey me?" she said, her whole body trembling._

_"But mother, I do not want to wear the mask. Why do I need to wear it?" Erik asked, his eyes filling to the brim with tears. But Madeleine was fuming._

_"You want to know why? You really want to know why?" Madeleine screeched before she grabbed Erik by the arm and dragged him from the kitchen, the boy whimpering in pain as his mother's grip tightened. _

_"Mother, you're hurting me," he said as she pulled him up the stairs. _

_"You want to know why you have to wear the mask, Erik?" she asked, dragging him into her bedroom and standing before one of the covered mirrors. She grabbed the dust sheet that was covering the surface and she pulled it off before pushing Erik forward to stand in front of the mirror. Erik stood staring at his reflection with a look of pure horror and fascination. "This is why I want you to wear the mask; why you **must** wear it. I cannot bear to look at you, Erik. This is why you stay inside; this is why I lock you in your room. You are a monster." Madeleine almost ran from the room, not able to look at her son's face any longer. Erik just stared. One side of his face was, for want of a better word, ugly. He felt the tears finally fall down his misshapen cheek, knowing why his mother hated him so. His eye was sunken in, like a skull, and his skin was almost dead looking. One side of his mouth was misshapen and he hated it. The reflection in front of him couldn't, in fact, be him, could it? That was when he snapped. Balling his fists, he slammed them into the mirror, the glass breaking beneath the sheer strength of his tiny fists. He screamed out, both in utter rage and the fact some shards of glass were now embedded in his hands, which had Madeleine running back into the room in a flash. As much as Erik scared her, she could not bear to hear her son in pain._

_"Erik, calm down this instant," she instructed. Erik quickly did as he was told, backing away from the mirror and the ugly reflection staring back at him, tripping over his own feet and falling back onto his backside before he began to cry. But his cries were like music, just like his voice was. Madeleine knew she could not bring herself to touch him, to clean him up. But she had to, no matter how much it pained her. She had to._

**-x-**

Christine found herself looking down at Erik's large hands, noticing small, barely there scars, some on the back and some in his palm. Looking back up at Erik's unmasked face, she pressed a small kiss to his forehead, before she pressed kisses to both his palms. Erik sighed happily as she did so.

"The woman cleaned me up but the look on her face as she did so told me she did not want to. I was six years old with no friends. She was the only other human being I had come into contact with, apart from the priest who baptised me, so she had to tend to my wounds, both physical and metal. As I got older, the priest told me that my mother did not want to name an abomination so I was to be named how the priest saw fit. He named me after himself, which I found strangely comforting, what with having no father," Erik told her.

"Where was your father?" Christine asked, her free hand stroking his thigh in comfort.

"He died, before I was born. According to the priest, he was a stonemason and he died on a job," Erik said. Christine could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke of a man he did not even know. "I just always wondered if he would have been accepting of me, unlike my mother."

"Listen to me, sweetheart," Christine said, taking his mask in her small hands. "Even if no one else will accept you for who you are, you know you always have my acceptance. I love you with my whole heart. That is all that matters." Erik could feel tears that needed to be shed, but he tried to keep them in, but when Christine placed her soft hand against his deformed cheek, he was gone. The tears suddenly flowed and he sobbed into Christine's shoulder. Christine sat on the bed next to him and held him to her breast, letting the man cry.

"Oh Christine," Erik whispered against her dress, his tears sliding down and dripping onto her skin. "I feel like I need to tell you more, but I do not know if I can." Christine smoothed down his hair, pressing a kiss to his head.

"You do not have to tell me today, my love. Only when you are ready," Christine said. "You have told me enough. Enough to make me want to hunt your mother down and give her a piece of my mind." Erik lifted his head to look at her, chuckling at the seriousness on her face. Christine smiled back, stroking the pads of her thumbs under his eyes to remove the tears stains.

"I would not know where to find my mother, not that I would want to," Erik said. "I stayed with her until I was nine. Another four long years of torment, until she brought what she wanted to call a 'father figure' into my life."

**-x-**

_"I do not like that man, Sasha," Erik whispered to his little cocker spaniel, the only friend he had ever had in the world. "He is taking my mother away and she does not speak to me unless it is dinner time. I hate him." Erik had watched as his mother had began to bring home a gentleman, who was apparently a doctor. Erik did not need, nor did he want, to know his name and when he was spoken to, Erik only called him 'Monsieur'. Sasha just rolled onto her back, her tongue hanging out her mouth as she watched her master. He smiled gently and began rubbing her fluffy belly, which had her back leg kicking out. Erik knew she liked it. Suddenly there was a sound of the door opening and closing, followed by a male and a female voice._

_"I am only making a suggestion, Madeleine. Maybe it would be better for you and for the boy if he was sent to an institution. It would take the stress off your shoulders and it would be a better environment for him, darling," came the doctor's voice._

_"Thomas, I do not know. He is still my son. I shall have to think things over," Madeleine said, making Erik's blood boil from where he sat at the top of the staircase, hidden away in shadow. Who was this man to tell his mother how to raise her own son? Sasha moved forward, lying across his knees. Erik wrapped his arms around her and buried his masked face in her fur._

_"You'll always be with me, you beautiful girl. Won't you?" he asked the dog. Sasha just licked his fingers in answer. But that was all Erik needed. Suddenly another loud knock on the door had Sasha growling from his lap. Madeleine opened the door, Erik saw from the top of the stairs._

_"Can I help you?" she asked with confusion in her voice._

_"Madame, I am here for your son," an elderly male voice said, making Erik frown._

_"My son?"_

_"Yes, I would like to take him. To cleanse him of the horrors and demons within. We are told he has the face of the devil's child. He needs to be taken from the village," the old man said. Madeleine turned to the doctor – Thomas – and began yelling at him._

_"You! You told them about Erik?" Madeleine screeched._

_"You know yourself what he is. He will never be accepted in society. He needs to go somewhere where he will be looked after," Thomas said. Madeleine pushed him towards the door._

_"You need to leave. You have no right to tell me how to treat my son," she said. "Get **out**!" Suddenly Sasha was out of Erik's lap, sensing Madeleine's discomfort at the situation, and she shot downstairs, Erik immediately following her._

_"Sasha! Come back," Erik cried, running downstairs and into the view of the people in the doorway. The elderly man and Thomas stood there, and behind them was at least ten people standing, some with flaming torches as a light in the darkness. _

_"Erik," Madeleine said, the first time he had ever heard her say him name with any other emotion except anger. "Go to your room, please."_

_"No, Madame. He comes with us. He is a demon and he cannot be allowed to reside here," the elderly man said. He moved forward to enter the house but Sasha was already there, her teeth sinking into his leg in warning. The man jumped back, yelping. He kicked out and managed to kick the dog away from him. Her painful whimper made Erik's blood boil and he ran outside to tend to his dog. But he wasn't quick enough and the elderly man had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him away from Madeleine and Sasha. "He comes with us." Erik was thrown towards the mob who stood there, hands grabbing at him. Sasha was up on her feet again and she made a beeline for the mob, managing to sink her claws into another man's leg. That was when it happened. One of the mob swiped at Sasha, hard, with the flaming torch, catching her under the chin with the hard wood. There was a sickening crack and Sasha fell to the ground, motionless. Erik suddenly screamed out for the animal, turning to the people who had hold of him and began biting at them, scratching and kicking. There was a sudden gunshot, making everyone gasp out. Thomas held a gun in the air._

_"I did not ask for this to happen," Thomas said. "I wanted to help this woman out, show her there was a better life for her child. But this is not it. Let the boy go, or I will shoot." Madeleine did not know what she wanted to do. Did she want her son to stay with her, the son she had always loathed? Did she want him to go to care? To an institution for the mentally ill? Her son was not crazy. The hands holding Erik let go and Erik was able to run to Sasha, the only thing he cared about in this world. He pulled the animal into his lap, cradling her motionless body against him, crying into her fur. To anyone, she would have looked like she was sleeping but Erik knew better. He didn't really pay attention to what happened after, it was all a blur. He did not speak to anyone as he proceeded to bury Sasha in the garden, digging her a hole and placing her still body into it before patting the dirt back down on top of her. He made a little cross out of sticks. He was aware of his mother watching his every move from the window but the moment she turned her back, he made his move. He ran._

_And he did not look back._

**-x-**

Night had fallen once more over the sea and Christine lay watching Erik sleep by the light of the one small candle that was next to their bed. The stories he had told her had shook her; how terrible a life he had led. Christine had thought her life terrible when her father had died but it was nothing compared to Erik's horrid past. Christine reached out to stroke his hair, watching him frown in his sleep like he was having a nightmare. His arm unconsciously wrapped around her and pulled her into his side, making her smile. She hoped there would be a better life for them, away from prying eyes.

"You think too loudly, my dear," Erik said, one eye open and watching her. "Are you alright?" Christine nodded.

"I am just thinking about America. We will be safe, yes?" Christine asked. Erik lifted his hand and threaded his fingers through her curls, her eyes fluttering closed, leaning into his tender touch.

"We will, I promise you. Do you trust me?" he asked. Christine smiled gently.

"Always."

That was all Erik needed to hear.

* * *

><p><strong>More about Erik's past soon. Promise. Sorry it took me so long. Hope you guys liked. x<strong>


	13. Silence Speaks, Loud and Clear

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 13**

The journey to America was slowly coming to an end for the phantom and his angel, but Christine was getting weaker by the day. Erik knew that she would need to see a doctor when they got off the ship and quickly. He sat by her side, playing the doting husband, trying to cool down the fever she had suddenly caught with a wet cloth to her forehead. The food was lacklustre and there was not enough for everyone on the ship for them to remain healthy. Erik prayed that if she was indeed with child, that the child would be healthy enough to pull through anything.

There was one day left on the ship when Christine woke again. Her eyes were slightly blurred as she blinked away the tiredness. The sound of the ocean outside was a comfort and so was the scratching of a quill from within the cabin. She turned her head slowly to see Erik sitting at the little desk in the corner by candlelight, writing.

"Erik?" she said gently, making the masked man turn to her. She tried to sit up slowly but Erik was soon there to help her.

"How do you feel, my dear?" he asked, propping up her pillows behind her back to make her comfortable. "Any better?" Christine nodded.

"A little better. My head has stopped spinning. Thank you for looking after me," she said. Erik stole a quick kiss from his lover's lips before he smiled.

"Anything for you, angel," he whispered before he moved back over to his desk, sitting down and picking up his quill again.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Well, we have a full day before we dock so I am forging some marriage documents for us," Erik said. Christine frowned gently.

"But we will be married in America anyway, what difference does it make?" she asked, standing from her bed and moving to the washbowl in the corner, gathering some water in her hands and splashing her face, cooling her down immensely.

"I do not want to take the chance, my love. I fear that if we are not married, they may split us up and I do not want to be separated from you, dearest," he said. "You already have a ring. I have one too in my satchel. We will wear the rings and according to this document ..." he blew on the wet ink to dry it quickly. " ... we are now Mr. And Mrs. Erik Destler." Christine could not help the smile that slid onto her features.

"Destler? That is your last name?" she asked. He nodded. "You never told me that. It suits you."

"And it will also be yours," Erik said, standing from the desk and turning to Christine. He pulled her into his embrace gently, burying his nose in her hair, taking in the scent that was purely Christine. "If you will have me." His tone was laced with amusement.

"I think it's a little late to be changing my mind. Not that I would," she said, pressing a kiss to his chin. "What do we do when we get there?" Erik sighed.

"We need to find accommodation, and American money. I only have francs. Someone, somewhere must be able to trade. Then I find work to support us, once we get on our feet," Erik said. Christine nodded. What would the American's think of Erik's mask though? Would they be intrigued? Threatened? Christine had no idea, but she didn't want to think about those things. "Are you alright, my dear?"

"Erik, what if it is the same as Paris? People scared of your mask or want to see what lies beneath it? What will you do?" she asked. Erik sighed gently.

"I am unsure. We shall cross that bridge when we come to it," he said. "Do not fret, my dear. We will see what happens." Erik moved back to his little desk in the corner as Christine sat back on the bed, running her fingers through her unruly curls.

"I should find work too," Christine suggested. Erik frowned.

"You shall do no such thing," he said, a little more forcefully than intended. Christine suddenly frowned, annoyed at his tone.

"Is that because I'm a woman? Are you going to belittle me by saying I cannot work to earn my keep?" she asked, angry at the implication. Erik shook his head.

"No, Christine. I am worried that if you are with child, you need to rest yourself. No strenuous activity," he said. Christine huffed out a breath.

"You remember that when you want to take me to bed then, Erik," Christine said, turning away from him, her anger only growing. _Typical man_, she thought to herself. _Always trying to be boss_. Erik stared at her, his mouth hanging open at her anger. Christine simply would not face him, making him turn back to the documents he was forging. If she stayed mad at him, he knew it could go on for a while. Sighing deeply, he began writing again. Christine bit her lip, turning her head back towards him, watching him, a sneaky smile on her face. She couldn't stay mad at him, not really. She slipped from the bed again and moved over to Erik. She slipped her arms around his neck, feeling him stiffen beneath her. "You know I did not mean it, Erik. I only want to help you make some money for our future." Erik turned in her arms, looking up into her eyes.

"I just do not want you to strain yourself, my dear. You know how I worry about you," he said, his hand going to her waist. "What if you are indeed with child and something happens to you?" Erik stood from his seat and took Christine in his arms, holding her close. "You know I would never be able to forgive myself." Christine nodded.

"I know you mean well," she said, leaning in to kiss her soon-to-be husband. Erik closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close before he swept her up in his arms and laid her down on her back on the bed. Christine giggled against his lips. He smiled at the sweet sound. He leaned in to kiss her neck gently, biting along her jaw line delicately, making Christine gasp.

"I thought you said no strenuous activity," Christine teased. Erik chuckled deeply against Christine's neck.

"I think I can take back what I said for today," he said, a hand on her thigh suddenly, making her gasp, travelled up beneath her nightgown, hitching it up to her waist. Christine wore no undergarments beneath her nightgown, which made Erik draw in a breath at the revelation. Her breathy pants were soon heard as Erik slid his hand up further, his fingers coming into contact with the wet warmth between her legs. Christine brought her hand up to her face at the touch, biting down on her knuckles as Erik slid one finger inside of her straight away. His touch was the fire her body needed, the fire that awakened every nerve ending in her body. Shuffling her hips forward into his touch, she gasped out loud when he curled that finger inside of her, hitting the right spot almost right away.

"Er ... Erik, my God," she gasped as he added a second one, quickly preparing her for what was about to happen next. Erik was entranced at the sight of his fingers as they disappeared in and out of her body, his half hard erection beginning to strain against his trousers. Christine spread her legs just a little more for him, her head falling back into the pillow, her eyes squeezing shut and her mouth falling open. Erik grinned as he felt her body spasm beneath his hand, her back arching off the bed as she neared the inevitable. "_Please_ ..." Her plea was almost his undoing. He felt her small hands quickly try and undo his trousers, fumbling with the ties that held them closed. Her fingers trembled, making him stop touching her and grab her hands in his own.

"I will do it," he said. He pressed her hands into the bed next to her head and made it clear that was where he wanted her to keep them. He quickly ridded himself of his trousers, leaving her almost on the brink from what his fingers alone were doing to her. He wrapped his hand around himself and gave a few experimental strokes, which had him groaning deep in his throat, his eyes closed for a moment.

"Erik, _please_," Christine pleaded again, trying to pull him closer. He leaned over her, his intent to kiss her clear, but Christine had other ideas. She grabbed him by the biceps, one leg wrapping around his and she flipped them the best she could in the small bed. Erik lay beneath her, his chest heaving as he tried to figure out what she was going to do. Christine smiled wickedly before she placed a kiss on his lips, just a small one, before she kissed down his throat, dipping her tongue into the hollow before she carried on mapping his body with her lips. She lapped quickly at one of his nipples, taking it into her mouth to swirl her tongue around it, feeling him suck in a deep breath.

"Christine," he said gently, his voice broken in his aroused state. She decided it was time and she straddled his waist, slapping his hands away as they automatically moved from his sides to grip her hips. She moved her hands to his half-open shirt, grabbing the material and practically ripping it from his body as he tried to force her nightgown over her head, leaving them finally bare before each other. Christine slowly lowered herself onto Erik, savouring the sound of the groan that left his lips. It was beautiful sound, full of animalistic passion. He was a phenomenal creature, his beauty (to her) overwhelming. She cared not about the mask, about the deformity. She cared about Erik, the man, her soon to be husband, the father to her possible child. He was the man she loved, not a monster. She placed her hands on his chest to balance herself as she got used to the feeling of him inside her, owning her body completely. She looked down at Erik, who was staring at the ceiling, trying to regulate his breathing. Christine gently touched his cheek, making him look at her. His eyes were clouded over with lust, just as they had been every other time they had lain together.

"I love you," Christine said gently. Erik could not help but smile. Christine leaned down once more to kiss her lover before he began to move his hips. She bit his bottom lip in pleasure, causing to make that beautiful noise in his throat once more. Their union was passionate, rough and_ exquisite_. Their sweat soaked bodies slid against each other intimately as Erik held her close, hitting that spot deep within her. She was beautiful in her euphoric state, hair wild and lips kiss swollen. One of her hands shot out to the pillow next to Erik's head, grabbing the material in her fist. She bit her lip hard, not enough to draw blood, and felt a cry in her throat threatening to spill from her lips. It took Erik one more hard thrust before he was groaning deeply and warmth filled her as he let go, his body going into spasm before he sank back onto the mattress, almost boneless. Christine followed, her body clenching around him before she let go, trying desperately to hold herself up as her body threatened to give up. Erik's arms slid around her and lowered her gently to the mattress beside him. He kissed her brow gently.

"I love you, too."

**-x-**

"Come back soon, m'dear Vicomte. Many girls 'ere would be lucky to 'ave you."

Raoul de Chagny stumbled out of another brothel, stinking of sweat, sex and stale brandy. That was the fourth time he had been to that particular brothel, merely to wash away the image of Christine Daae and her monster. The bullet wound in his leg was barely any better, but he needed something to keep his mind from the soprano. Why she would willingly spread her legs for a monster when he was offering her everything and more was completely beyond him. She could have everything. A title, servants, and they could have had a child together and be a proper family. But Christine Daae had to ruin it. If screwing with the devil was what Christine wanted to subject herself to, then that was her decision. But Raoul knew himself too well; he knew he would want to go after her, even though he had no idea where she was. Was she still in Paris? Had she moved on to London, Rome, or some island that no one knew anything about? He knew the monster well enough to realise he probably had some plan up his sleeve for them.

"You should not be out on that leg, Monsieur le Vicomte," a voice said from behind him, causing Raoul to whirl round to face the voice. There stood the man who had shot him; Nadir, the monster had called him. He stood there, a pistol in his hand, pointing toward the ground.

"You!" Raoul spat. "You helped them escape."

"I did no such thing. I just did not stop them, monsieur. You would do best to leave them be," Nadir said. "Not that you will find them. Be careful, monsieur. I can make both of your legs match." His hand twitched with the pistol in it, which caught Raoul's eye. Taking a deep breath, Raoul threw the half empty bottle of brandy to the ground, causing it to smash. Nadir did not flinch, but he cocked the pistol. Raoul took that as his cue and he turned to leave.

"The monster will not get away with this, do you hear me?" he spat once more. "Mark my words." And with that, he limped away back in the direction of de Chagny manor. Nadir sighed. He had better catch the next boat.

**-x-**

"Erik, are you alright?"

Erik took a deep breath. It was becoming dark over the docks which led them to Coney Island. He kept himself hooded so that no one would stare at the mask as they moved with the crowds off the ship. The truth was Erik felt sick. His stomach had flipped God knows how many times in nervousness. But he could not let Christine see that he was scared. He felt Christine's small hand fit into his, linking their fingers together.

"Erik, do not worry. We will be alright," she said.

"What if we are not? What if they take you from me?" he asked. He slid his other hand over his waistcoat, hearing the small rustle of his forged marriage certificate to Christine. Would they see through his facade? Would they take his mask? Put him on display? God, that could not happen to him, not now. Christine stayed close to his side, feeling his sweating palms. She was worried for him. As they came closer to getting off the boat, through the people pushing and children crying, Christine noticed men, no doubt security checking their documents. Erik was breathing heavily. He had never been in such a crowded situation before. They moved in with the crowd, Christine quickly pulling the marriage documents from Erik's pocket. She gave him a quick look before she presented the document. The guard looked at it, then a quick glance at Erik and Christine. His eyes lingered a little longer on Erik before he handed the document back.

"Men to the left, women to the right," the man said and Erik's hand tightened in Christine's.

"Why?" Christine asked.

"Medicals test, ma'am," he said before moving to let them go forward. Christine was almost suddenly led away by a nurse, Erik suddenly panicking.

"Christine, I cannot," he said, his voice one of a scared little boy. Christine turned to the nurse.

"Can I have a moment?" The nurse sighed and nodded. Christine turned to Erik. "Erik, you will be okay. I promise. I will come and find you once we are done, okay?" she said, hugging him. "I promise no one will hurt you."

"My face?" he said and Christine knew exactly what he meant.

"You just have to tell them what happened. No one will hurt you," she repeated. "I love you." Erik was reluctant to let go of her hand. "I love you, okay?"

"I love you too," he said. Christine smiled and pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

"Go on, I will wait for you once I am finished. I promise," she said and began to move in the direction with the nurse, her hand slipping out of Erik's, who was still reluctant to let her go. Christine watched him go, hoping he would be alright. She slipped behind a curtain with the nurse.

"Can I ask you to hop up on the bed there for me, ma'am?" the nurse said. Christine did as she was asked, her stomach fluttering in nervousness. She hoped Erik was alright. Christine watched the nurse as she moved around the little curtained room.

"Have you had any problems lately?" the nurse asked. Christine nodded.

"I had a horrid fever on the boat here. And I have had terrible sickness in the days leading up to the journey. I thought it was possibly stress," Christine said. The nurse made a 'hmm' sound before writing it down on her little pad of paper.

"Miss ..."

"Mrs, and its Destler," Christine said, a little swell of pride going through her at using Erik's last name.

"Mrs Destler, have you had your monthly bleeding?" the nurse asked. That was when Christine paused. She had never taken notice. But she now realised that she had never had a monthly bleed since she and Erik had begun their sexual relations three and a half months ago. Erik was quite possibly right. She was more than likely with child. "Do you have relations with your husband?" Christine looked at the nurse and nodded. "And have you bled, Mrs Destler?" Christine gulped and shook her head.

"No."

"And is the sickness you described in the morning?" Once more, Christine nodded her head.

"Yes."

"Then I think congratulations may be in order. Mrs Destler, it seems, almost certainly, you are with child."

* * *

><p><strong>Shorter than usual I know, but hey ho. I'll make it up to you soon. I hope you enjoyed. More soon :) xx<strong>


	14. I'd Give It All For You

**It's a Dangerous Game**

**Summary**: Erik knows he is playing a dangerous game with Christine, but he cannot starve himself of her any longer, not when she wants him too; Erik/Christine, smut. Songfic to 'Dangerous Game' from Jekyll and Hyde.

**A/N: If you have seen Jekyll and Hyde, you'll know how the scene in the bedroom with Lucy and Hyde goes, and this is kind of what I wanted to portray in this story, although Erik is not as rough as Hyde. But I warn you, there will be full smut here.**

Lyrics**: Erik is bold, **_Christine is italics, __**both are bold italics.**_

**-x-**

**Chapter 14**

The shock of a nurse telling Christine the news had not quite worn off. The soprano stood waiting for Erik, who was still in his own curtained room with the doctor. Christine ran a hand over her stomach, imagining herself in months down the line with a swollen belly. The thought made her smile. She was so lost in thought; she did not hear Erik come up behind her.

"Christine?" he said and Christine started, turning to her fiancé. He was standing there with the hood of his cloak down, his mask still on his face but out in the open for everyone to see.

"Are you alright?" Christine asked. He looked shocked, a little confused even. "Erik?"

"That man; the doctor. He ... he took my mask from me. He looked at my face and he did not even flinch. Christine, he looked at my face and said nothing about it. He touched it. He did not scream," Erik said with disbelief in his voice. He looked around him. No one was even looking in his direction in any sort of disgust. In fact, some people smiled as they passed. Erik could not believe it. Christine could not help but smile. She pulled Erik to her and kissed his lips gently, pulling him out of his disbelief. "No one is staring at me." He whispered against Christine's lips.

"I know, darling. We will be happy here, I can feel it," she said back. Erik could feel his insides flip with happiness instead of nervousness. He knew that he could be the husband to Christine he wanted to be if no one was interested in his face. Children would still look, they were doing it at that moment, but their parents did not bat an eyelid and Erik had never felt happier about his mask. "Come darling, let us go." Christine pulled her shawl around her shoulders and handed Erik his satchel before he offered her his arm. She took it with a smile.

"Let us find somewhere to sleep for the night, then we may see about permanent accommodation," Erik said as they followed the crowds of people out and off the docks, onto Coney Island. Into their new life, their new beginning. Nadir had been right. Coney seemed the place to be.

Many people had left the boat at the docks and Erik knew that, somehow, finding accommodation would be difficult. They walked around the island the best they could, their limbs tired yet their silence comfortable. Christine felt herself struggling to keep her eyes open, her head resting against Erik's shoulder as they walked. The masked man turned to her before he stopped, moving to scoop her up into his arms, holding her close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against him.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked before he began walking again.

"Mm hmm," Christine said before she fell asleep in his arms. Erik smiled, nuzzling her forehead with his nose. He was tired himself but he would not make his angel sleep on the streets. Suddenly, a voice made him turn.

"Need somewhere for you and your lady friend, sir?" a man's voice said in the darkness. Erik turned to see a man shrouded in black, a top hat upon his head.

"Do you know of somewhere?" Erik asked, looking the man up and down warily. The man nodded and bowed his head to Erik.

"Indeed I do. My own residence. It ain't much, I tell you, but you may let your lady friend sleep," the man said. Erik stood his ground for a moment before looking down at his angel in his arms. His arms were tiring as he fought off sleep. They needed to rest.

"I have no money. No American money anyway," Erik said, a little deflated. The man shook his head.

"You may stay tonight free of charge. Tomorrow, we will see what we can do," he said.

"You are certain?"

"I am," he said. "Dr Gangle, at your service." He gave a low bow before he turned, beckoning the masked man to follow him. Erik watched him walk away and, taking one more look at the angel in his arms, made to follow him. Erik was led into a building, a run-down building but luckily still standing, and up two flights of stairs, Dr Gangle walking in front. The man moved to a door and pulled out a key, unlocking and opening the door. He stepped back to allow Erik to enter, the masked man taking in the room. It was nothing special. It was clean enough, a small kitchen to one side and a mattress on the floor with pillows and sheets. There was a door open to one side of the room and Erik made out a bathtub and a chamber pot.

"It's not much; good sir, but it will allow you to rest. We can discuss anything you wish tomorrow morning," Dr Gangle said.

"I cannot thank you enough," Erik said. Dr Gangle merely bowed his head and closed the door behind him. Erik was suddenly aware of his numb his arms were. He moved to the mattress and he laid Christine down on top of it, the movement making her eyelids flicker. Erik pulled his arms from under her and proceeded to remove her shoes and stockings, placing them to one side. Suddenly he felt Christine's hand on his, placing it down on her flat stomach.

"We are going to have a baby," Christine whispered, her eyes still closed. Erik sucked in a shaky breath, not believing what she had said.

"You are certain?" he whispered back.

"The nurse said so. I missed my bleeding," she said before she yawned. Erik smiled brightly and he removed his hand from her belly and replaced it with his lips.

"My beautiful Christine," he breathed. "I do not know what I have done to deserve you." But Christine had already fallen asleep, far too tired from their long journey to America. He smiled gently and felt his own body begin to shut down and he sank down onto the mattress next to his Christine, eyes closing almost immediately as tiredness overtook him and the world faded to black.

**-x-**

Christine awoke to rain battering down on the window behind the shabby closed curtains. She felt better, completely rested. Turning over on the mattress, she noted that Erik was not beside her until a clatter over in the kitchen area made her turn. There he was, heating water on the stove to make tea. She could not help the smile that adorned her face at how domesticated this was for him. There was the Phantom of the Opera making tea for his fiancée. Definitely not intimidating.

"Ah, you are awake," he said. "I thought I was going to have to wake you."

"What time is it?" she asked, sitting up on the mattress, the sheets falling around her waist. She ran her hand through her unruly curls and she yawned. Erik pulled a pocket watch from his waistcoat and he checked it.

"Almost two thirty, my dear," he said. Christine blinked. Two thirty the next afternoon? Surely she hadn't slept that long. "You seem rested though, I might say. You must have needed it." He turned back to the stove and proceeded to finish making them tea.

"How long have you been up?" she asked, getting up from the mattress, stumbling slightly in her still sleepy haze.

"A while. I went out to see about proper accommodation for us," Erik said. Christine smiled.

"Did you have any luck?" she asked. He looked at her quickly before bowing his head again, shaking it gently.

"I am sorry, Christine," he said. "But Dr Gangle ..."

"Who?"

"The man who let us have this room, he managed to find someone who would change my money for me. I now have American money. He said we can stay here as long as we need to. I will try again, my love. I promise. I have not looked far enough. I will find somewhere for us," he said. He moved to her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "We will be happy, our child will want for nothing. I will make sure of it." Christine brought her hand up to his, stroking it gently.

"I trust you," she said, placing a kiss to his palm. "Shall we have tea?" Erik nodded and moved to finish what he was doing. Christine moved to the window and looked out. Coney Island was certainly something else, although she was not really sure what. But it certainly was different from home. She let her hand slide over her abdomen, soon to be swollen with child and she let a smile appear on her face. Suddenly Erik's hands were on top of hers, holding her back against his chest, burying his nose in her hair.

"You are my angel," he whispered. "You being here with me, it is more than I could have ever asked for. And now this child, I feel like God is smiling down on me for the first time in my life." Christine sighed gently, falling back into his embrace.

"God has always smiled down on you, Erik. You just did not know it," she said. She turned in his arms and buried her face in his collar, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne and simply the smell of Erik. He was a wondrous being, he just did not realise.

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I you, my angel of music," she said, before he caught her lips with his own. She let herself be kissed, simply holding him against her as he softly tasted her lips before he pulled back. He picked up her teacup and handed it to her. "Here, drink this. Are you hungry?" Christine was about to say no before her stomach growled loudly.

"I suppose I am," she said with a smile. Erik smiled back and gestured for her to sit at the rickety looking table in the corner before he got some food together for them. He had managed to find somewhere that morning to pick up essentials to keep Christine's strength up, for her sake and the baby's. He collected together some bread, meat and cheese and took it over to Christine.

"Eat. You have been rather pale since the journey," he said.

"I am well, Erik. I assure you," she said, patting his hand. "But thank you."

"I will have to find work tomorrow, Christine," he said as Christine began to dig into her food. "But I want to take you out tomorrow night, if you will allow me? Our first official outing as soon-to-be husband and wife." Christine felt her heart swell.

"I would love that very much," she said, a small blush staining her porcelain cheeks. "And I am proud of you for wanting to go. No one will care about your mask, I assure you, love."

"I am slightly worried but I shall try to overcome it. It has been years since I have been outside in public view with my mask on show," he said. "I pray people here are not too judgemental." Christine gestured to the seat opposite her and Erik sat, cradling his own teacup in his slightly cold hands as he drank from it. He cast his gaze out the window, over the rain splattered view. The streets were empty and the sky was dark, signalling more rain to come. But here he was, having escaped Paris, with the light of his life. He could not have asked for anything else.

**-x-**

Nadir Khan kept watch on the de Chagny house a few days before he had to go catch the next boat to Coney Island. He prayed the man would not to anything stupid and that Erik and Christine would finally be free of the Vicomte de Chagny. As he boarded the ship, he could only hope that Raoul would never know where they were.

God help them all.

* * *

><p><strong>Short, I know. I apologise. I have had severe writer's block so I think I am finally back on the bandwagon. Hope you like. You know what to do. :) x<strong>


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